The Demon Cuddleverse Series
by Am-Chau Yarkona
Summary: They're in love. Caring happens, romance beings, wackiness ensues.... Slashy (Rupert/William, among others). Updated 19 Oct. In need of a beta reader.
1. Sickness

Title: In sickness and in health (1/4)  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
Category: Angst, h/c, with mild silly moments.  
Timing: Slight AU, season 4 type-time. Buffy/Riley, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya. Spike is chipped, no Dawn yet, Giles is running the magic shop, and Spike had a brief infatuation with Buffy before this fic begins.  
Summary: They've in love. One of them is ill. Caring happens, romance begins, wackiness ensues.  
Warnings: None.  
Spoilers: None (see Timing)  
Story Note: POV will change over the series. Chapter titles from words in various marriages vows (yes, fluffy, I know) found at http://www.documentsanddesigns.com/verse/traditional_wedding_vows.htm#4  
Disclaimer: Joss is God, the Grr Argh monster is scary, I don't own any of them, and I promise I won't torture them with hot pokers or sell them into slavery.  


Chapter One- Sickness 

He works to nearly human hours now, but there are still evenings when he is restless and paces the floor like the caged tiger of Ted Hughes' poem, until sunset. Then, he can leave, to pick a fight with whatever demon is stupid enough to take him on. Sometimes they aren't so stupid. 

Whatever he found last night clearly comes into that category, because when he crawled into bed in the early hours of the morning he was a mass of wounds, cuts, grazes, tooth and claw marks - I'd gone to bed, though I couldn't sleep without his strength, his cool skin, his stillness near my own warm body. I put out my hands, meaning to soothe him, to ease the hurts, but he pushed me away and we slept separately. 

The clock struck noon long ago, and soon it will strike one, and the girls will be here. Many of the minor blemishes have gone from his lily-white skin, but some remain. There is a deep slash just below his collar bone, in the hollow of his left shoulder where he held me more times than I could count, which is festering a cruel collection of blues, purples and blacks. There is a heat in it, too, a heat that should not be there. 

I've tried to shake him, wake him up, but he is so heavy, and I'm tired: my attempts are to no avail. My books tell me nothing. Either the answers I need are not recorded there, or I'm too sick with worry to be able to find them. Buffy and Willow are coming over soon. Perhaps…Wait! He's stirring in his sleep- but no, he rolls away from me and sleeps on, quiet once more. 

He frowns and murmurs something, probably a name, and my heart doesn't allow me to hear, for fear it isn't 'Rupert' but 'Drusilla', 'Angelus' or 'Buffy'. When my pulse stops drumming in my ears, all is silent and still again- for a short time. The door clicks open, and I hear two familiar sets of footsteps. 

"Giles?" Buffy calls, and the sound of her voice jolts me into action as it has always done. I stand from my place at Spike's beside and hurry downstairs, making an effort, probably in vain, to keep quiet. 

"Hush!" I say, urgently, and as the girls draw close to me I whisper, my voice made harsh by fears and chocked back sobs of despair. "Spike is- I don't know, injured or ill. Some sort of demon hurt him badly last night, but I don't know what." 

"Oh, Giles, I'm sorry. This must be terrible for you- you should have phoned! We can help with the research and things." Willow spouts sympathy, but Buffy is more business like. 

"The books don't tell you anything?" she asks, gesturing round my apartment at the open volumes lying on everything, volumes she sometimes seems to regard as holding all the secrets of the universe. Mark you; sometimes I think of them that way too. 

"Not that I can find, no- but I, I..." my voice gives up, and I turn away, trying not to share my pain. 

"We'll find out, Giles," Buffy tells me firmly, guiding me to an armchair. "Can we tell anything from Spike's injuries?" I note that Willow seems to have disappeared, and hope wildly that she's gone to put the kettle on. I could really use some tea right now. 

"I'm not sure- only his shoulder still looks bad." 

"Right, I'll look. And when Will's done in the kitchen, she can get the others over here." Willow has heard her name and come through, so Buffy gives her direct orders, "We need the others- Tara, Xander, Anya. If that's okay, Giles-" I barely have time to nod- "Good. More people means quicker answers." 

I just sit there, as they explode into what seems to be a whirlwind of activity. This is what I trained them for, I think, as I sit and watch, to react in time of need. Willow lifts the phone and dials with practised speed. 

Soon the Scoobies are assembled, even Riley, though no one had told me he was back in Buffy's good books. He and Buffy are planning patrol routes for tonight, everywhere Spike might have been. I sit by Spike's side, being fed chocolate and tea every so often by Xander, who is planning I think to patent the combination as a cure for all ills. Anya tries to comfort me in her tactless way, and Willow and Tara huddle over some mixture of magic and science designed to analyse the orangey stuff which has begun to seep out of the cut, and something they found on the clothes he wore yesterday. 

The presence of so many people does comfort me, but it makes me want to scream as well. I can't help the illogical feeling that if they all left, Spike would wake up as normal, and we'd be back to the routine, him and me, the old British guys together. He annoys me sometimes- often- and puzzles me too, and at the moment my longing to hear that voice again is driving me even closer to tears. 

I love him in a way I haven't loved since Jenny died, in a way I'd never loved before I met her either, despite my feelings for Ethan. I think he loves deeper easier than I do- or maybe he's been at it for longer. Certainly, there are three names in his emotional past, and only one in mine. (It must be said that the numbers are more even when you look at sexual experience- orgies have to count for something.) But now- now I love him alone, and he is ill, and I should be doing something to help, not leaving it all to the youngsters. I may have put Buffy in charge, but I can still ask for a job to do. 

"Buffy?" They all stop, and turn towards me, a little startled. I ignore most of them, and focus on her. My Slayer. 

"Buffy, I need to be doing something, anything. Waiting isn't helping and I can't just sit here any more." 

She hides her surprise well behind a mask of understanding. Well, in time the understanding may become real. "What do you want to do? We've got spaces for researchers, magicians, scientists, umm…" 

"Something simple- not so complicated that I'll mess it up. I can't think, I just need something to do." 

"Um- how about coffee and doughnuts all round?" Xander asks. "As I'm trapped under the large pile of books that's normally your job, maybe you should take mine." 

"And when you get back, Tara and I will need an extra pair of hands with these test tubes," Willow offers. 

I must sound pathetic to them- I know I look that way in my own mind- but they are all grown-ups. They've all loved, and worried for their loved ones. I nod, and smile as best I can. "Espresso, everyone?" 

Hours later, the sun has set and Buffy has left to patrol with Riley. Willow stopped giving me things to hold when my shaking hands spilt one too many carefully prepared tests, so now I'm sitting upstairs, by the bed, waiting for my lover. What I'm waiting for him to do I don't know, but something inside me says: something has to happen, and soon. Be there for him. So here I am, and where else would I be? He's been there for me so often, when I was ill, or frightened, or depressed, to hold me or joke with me. 

Since that first night in the days when he was still officially chained in my bathtub- since… 

No, Rupert. Think it through. Tell the whole story, so you remember it as it really happened. It'll calm you down, and pass the time until Willow or Tara- or, dear God, Xander or Anya, can give you some information to work with. 

That night I was tired and depressed, lonely. Normal practice would be to get drunk, but I was all out of alcohol and couldn't be bothered to go and get more. I went to the bathroom, looking for painkillers or sleeping pills to- I'm not sure what, now. In any case, what I found was Spike. 

Somehow, Houdini-like, he'd slipped his chain and was perched on the rim at the end of the bath. I didn't notice him at first- perhaps I'd even forgotten he was there- just moved to the cupboard, avoiding looking in the mirror on its door, and opened it. 

For a moment, I simply stood there, staring at the packets. During that long minute, he spoke, that soft English voice more tender than I'd ever heard it before. I've heard it often since then, that gentle tone: when we're alone, and I'm not feeling so good. He saves it for those times. 

"Got a headache, pet?" he asked. I didn't reply- part surprise at his speaking, his tone, part depression or exhaustion. All I could do was lean my head forward against one of the white plastic shelves, and close my eyes. I heard him move then, swing his feet round to the floor, and step across to me. Every nerve in my body told me I was about to be attacked, that I should run or at the least fight back, but I didn't. I didn't have the will to do it. Carefully, he slipped his strong arms round my waist and turned me to face him, then pulled my body tight to his. I recall a thrill of fear- William the Bloody is holding me!- but then it passed, and I relaxed into his arms. 

"Come on," he whispered, "Bedrooms tend to cure headaches faster than bathrooms- trust me." And I did- oh, I did and still do. 

We haven't been a couple all the time since then- not formally until quite recently. I think the breakthrough for me was a throwaway comment Buffy made about her friends consisting of three couples now. They have been very accepting- but on the other hand, they accepted Willow and Tara very easily, too. I don't know if it will last long- I'm not sure how Spike feels about Buffy now, if he really loves me or if, like Harmony, I just serve a purpose. All I know is that I love him, though I can't find the words to say that aloud. 

I blink hard, tears pricking my eyes painfully, and look away from the beautiful face in front of me, so still when it should smile and speak, to see Willow and Tara standing in the doorway. 

"Giles?" Willow says, her voice low. "We think we may have something. If you come downstairs, we'll explain." 

It takes me a moment to comprehend what she has said, but when I do, I stand, glancing down at the prone form on the bed once more. 

"I'll watch him for a while," Tara says, moving towards the chair where I was seated. In a daze, I follow Willow down the stairs. 

She has me sit by the table on which she's set out an impressive array of scientific and magical apparatus. 

"Do you want the long, technical version, or the cliffnotes?" she asks. 

"Shortest version possible, please," I say, knowing that we must observe some of the ritual of banter and joking. 

"Okay then- in short, Spike's wound was inflicted by a human, who had some kind of blade with a bacteria on it. Because Spike's blood moves slowly, if at all, his body can't deal with the infection as it would in a human. A person or humanoid demon would develop flu-like symptoms, maybe a week after the wound closed, but a vampire just has a festering cut. If we're correct about this, and we've double checked it, the right magical charm should kill the bacteria, because they have been influenced by Hellmouthy energy." 

"Good," I say. "There's a book of charms on my desk, let's get on with it." 

"We've looked at the book," Willow frowns, "and it's not that simple. All the charms that would work on something similar for a human involve crosses, holy water, or sunshine. They'd kill Spike rather than cure him." 

"Oh." What more can I say? "What do you propose to do now?" 

"Tara and I think we can write a spell that would do the job, but we'll need some pretty dangerous ingredients." 

"Such as?" I might as well know the truth. 

"Such as the blood of the lover of the one to be cured." 

"Not a problem." I can say that. I know he loves me, though he's never told me. 

"And the dried liver of a dragon." 

"We have them at the Magic Shop." 

"And the blood of Spike's sire." 

"Angel?" 

"Or maybe Drusilla, I'm not quite clear. Angel will know, anyway." 

"Phone Los Angeles." 

"You know that this is dark majik?" 

"Yes, I know. Do it." 

Perhaps that is the wrong choice, but I couldn't say anything else. Willow went to the phone, and I back upstairs to wait by his side until the witches were ready. 


	2. Health

Title: In Sickness and In Health, 2/4 - Health   
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: Spike updates us from the last chapter.  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
Spoilers: None (season four)  
Warnings: Pre-slash (but you know what the pairing is, so…)  
Author Notes: Things seem to be going well.  
Story Notes: None  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing. Please don't torture me with hot pokers because I'm playing with your darlings. 

Some months later 

It took two long months (yes, too long) before I was recovered fully from the infection that the demon gave me. During that time he cared for me, as Drusilla could not: with patience and true sympathy. The spell dealt with the bacteria, but it further weakened me- though I will admit, now, on paper that will never be read, that I enjoyed the feeling of being cared for and acted up a bit. I'm sure he figured that out, but he never mentioned it. 

Since then we've had a quiet spell- well, relatively so, for Sunnyhell- and he's been giving the Slayer (Buffy- he likes to know that I can use her name. Maybe it reassures him I'm not in love with her anymore, because I can't say Dru's name aloud, though I never stop thinking it) more evenings off. We spend them together, sometimes patrolling, more often at home. I still go out alone in the evenings, for a smoke or a drink, but I don't pick fights anymore. Why waste my time on violence, when I could have something so much better without the 'kill, torture, maim, make blood run like wine' bit? 

Tonight we're curled up in front of the television, not really watching but a bit tired to do anything else. It isn't a good kind of tired either; it's the stayed-up-all-night-to-save-the-Slayer-and-her-friends-and-then-had-to-hide-in-the-library-all-day kind. The kind I'm not very keen on. I twist round so my back is to the telly, and I'm sitting in his lap, looking straight into deep, heavy-lidded eyes. I kiss him, gently, before murmuring, "Wanna go to bed, Rupert?" 

When it's just us, I mostly call him Rupert. Giles in company, luv or pet to tease, and Ripper when he's drunk or bossy, but mostly Rupert. He calls me William, especially since I let my hair grow out, back to its natural colour- to please him, though I said it was because I was too lazy to keep bleaching it. He says it's 'honey blond' but I think it looks like porridge with mud in. And don't say- 'no mirrors, you can't see it' because now it's got long enough that I can. If I want to. The bloody Scooby Gang are having a fine old time of pestering me about it- Xander in particular. 

"Carry me, William." Dear lord! my brain works much too fast. Maybe I was trying to block- no, it must be that babbling is infectious, but vampires only get it in the brain, not the mouth. I hope so, anyway. Inside my head babbling I can deal with. Have to. 

I stand, trying not to groan as my cramped muscles complain. I have developed a sudden deep-seated hatred for library cupboards, I note, and bend to slide my arms under his body, lifting him. It's been a while since I last did this- he is noticeably lighter than before. 

"Bed it is, then." He snuggles- that's the only word for it- up against my chest, as a reply. 

"Shall we attempt undressing, or just crash?" My accent wanders more when I'm sleepy, and with him around it starts to try and match his. It frightens me how easily I slip back into William's habits, the ways of being proper and nice that I worked so hard to lose because only evil brought me love. 

"Crash," he says, so I do, careful to keep him on top. He is asleep within minutes, but I remain awake a little while longer, comforted by his presence, but still feeling a little scared at the changes he invokes in me, and my inability to protect myself. I'm still not sure if he knows that what I've been referring to as 'the germ demon' was a human. I don't really want to think about it, but something honest in me prevents me from sinking all the way into Sunnydale denial syndrome. 

When I wake, hours after dawn but early by human standards, I have a brief moment of panic- he's gone. Then I hear noises in the kitchen, and realise: it's a weekday. He'll have got up to make breakfast and get ready to open the Magick Box. I consider lying under the covers for a while longer, but then decide against it. This is my last chance to see him this morning. Still fully dressed from last night, I roll off the bed, only narrowly escaping a belly flop onto the floor. 

Woken up enough to walk, I stumble downstairs to the main area of the apartment and stand on the last step for a moment, watching him as he pours boiling water into his teapot, turns the toast under the grill- he can't cope with the toaster, mornings like this- and puts a bag of blood in the mirocw… 

Hang on just one bloody moment! He doesn't know I'm awake yet- I haven't- 

"I heard the floorboard creak, Spike," he says, coming to the foot of the stairs and grinning at me. I take the last step down and grin back- into the kiss. He's changed his clothes- one set of tweed for another- but he still tastes of the pizza we had for dinner last night. The man is coming round to pizza as a good thing to eat, particularly when you're half asleep already, and would be fully given over to slumber's embrace if your stomach weren't rumbling like a tiger in a cage. See? William the Bloody Awful Poet again. 

When the microwave beeps, I break the kiss, and say, "Food now, naughties later, Rupert?" 

He nods, and goes to see if his toast is done. I put my blood into a mug, and fetch the marmalade for him as well as picking up his glasses. It seems he needs all the help he can get with getting sorted out today. 

We hardly speak over breakfast, choosing to maintain our companionable silence until he's by the door, ready to leave. I get up from the table and saunter across to him. 

"Come home early," I say. "Buffy can use a night off after yesterday's fiasco, and so can you." 

He looks torn between smiling at my mock-stern tone, and sighing at the reminder of yesterday's events. I lean in for a goodbye kiss, to spare him the trouble of doing either. 

This time he breaks it first. "I really must be going. Don't sleep too much without me, or you'll be bouncing when I'm collapsing." 

With that, he goes, closing the door behind him and leaving me with all day to prepare a really good surprise- something romantic, something restful, and something, well, surprising, I suppose is what I'm aiming at. I sit down to think- don't want to overheat the old little grey cells. 

So. Romantic. Come on, William, you were going to be a romantic poet; you can summon a little romance. What makes a good romantic evening? Candles. Good food. Wine. Music. Declarations of love. [Gulp.] Sort out the food first, and don't think about the last one- why if you say and he doesn't… or if he just laughs? No. Don't even go there, as the kids say. Just set up a nice, relaxing evening for Rupert, one step at a time. 

Candles. Food. Music- it's like the preparations you made when you were courting Ceicily. Then it took me all day to prepare: wash, dress, clean the room, set the table, cook the food, chill the wine, write a poem, rehearse the speech in front a the mirror- and that was just for the five minutes of sandwiches-and-conversation your mother expected you to provide between a guest arriving and her deigning to come down to see them. Ceicily must have hated me for those times. 

They were awkward all round, but there was no other way I could express my feelings. Damn Victorian codes of etiquette. You can probably leave some of it out with Rupert- the poem, the looking in the mirror, for example- but Dru used to like it when I set the table properly, even Angelus and Darla approved- we'd serve wine and young girls. 

I can probably leave the young girls out, too- that might be a less pleasant surprise for Rupert. But they might still be able to help. I'll need ingredients, good wine, and my box of posh clothes from the old factory. 

This, William old boy, is turning into a plan, albeit one involving the begging of mortals for assistance. Probably not Buffy, things are still too tense between us; but Willow and Tara like me, even if it's only because I make their precious Giles happy (at least, I hope I do. I'll never really know, while I can't ask him). They might be persuaded to bring stuff over. I'll give them a ring soon. 

What shall I cook? Old traditional British things that would be what he'd like. What did mother used to make? Besides cucumber sandwiches? We would have meat and two veg, that's the formula. Lamb, or mutton, with potatoes and peas or carrots. Maybe Yorkshire pudding too, because dad liked it- he came from 'up north'. We didn't have it after he- focus, Spike. You are doing something nice for the man you love, even if he doesn't know that, not to earn anyone's approval, parent or Sire. 

If you ring the magic shop, you can ask Anya to give you a warning when he's on his way home- speak to him, too, tell him- well, say you'll look after dinner, anyway. He'll just think you want to order pizza again. 

I'm not sure why he didn't just phone Anya this morning, tell her to open the shop on her own. She wasn't fighting last night, just hiding and spell casting with Willow. It can't have been that tiring that she needed help today- maybe he wanted to get away from me. I see it in his eyes sometimes, the exasperation when I wind him up, and the fear? Relief? when I tell him I'm going out for while. 

He doesn't really want me around, he just puts up with me. Oh, sometimes he's kind, and there are benefits to keeping me here- I can fight demons, I don't try to pay someone to kill Buffy (not that I would, now, but I don't tell him that), I can help with research, but really he just puts up with me. 

But focus, William. Dinner. Phone the shop, ask Anya to give me a bell when he leaves, and then ring the witches' dorm room. 

"Hello? Magic Shop, how may I help you spend money here?" 

"It's me- Spike." 

"Oh.." 

"Ssh, I don't want him to know who's calling, yet. Is Giles there with you?" 

"He's in the basement- he can't hear us." 

"Right. Now, can you keep a secret?" 

"For a friend like you? Of course." 

"I want to give him a nice surprise this evening, but I need some warning when he's coming home. Can you ring me when he leaves? That should give me ten or fifteen minutes to put the finishing touches on." 

"Yes, sure. Here- he's just come upstairs. I'll pass you over. Giles, it's Spike." 

I manage to hiss 'thanks' before I hear my lover's voice on the phone. 

"Spike?" 

"Hello, Rupert. How's it going?" 

"Fine. I thought I asked you not to call me at work." 

"Yeah, I know. Just wanted to tell you not to worry about dinner tonight, I'm fixing it." 

"Pizza again?" 

"Maybe." I'd hoped he'd just assume. I'm not sure why, but even little white lies like that make me feel uneasy when I give them to him. 

"Okay then. I really am busy at the moment, and there are more customers arriving every minute. Goodbye, Spike." 

"Goodbye." 

I'm not sure why I'm bothering- but I won't let that doubt stop me. My feelings not being returned never stopped me before- I chased Ceicily for months, and Buffy for nearly as long, until I turned round one day and saw Rupert, the man, standing there, not just Giles the Watcher. 

Doorbell! That startled me. See what happens when you get too introspective, William? I open it, to find- the two girls I wanted to speak to. 

"Willow, Tara! Hi!" 

"Um, hi, Spike," Willow says. "I guess Giles isn't in?" 

"No, I'm afraid not. Anything I can do you?" 

"Well, if we could come in, there's something we want to talk to you about, actually." 

Wondering what on earth they could have thought of, I step back to let them in. After all, there are some things I want to ask them, too. 

When they are both seated on the sofa, I settle back into an armchair and look from one to the other. It makes Tara a bit nervous, but that's all the better for encouraging Willow to get to the point. "It's about Giles. Well, you and Giles." 

"What about us?" I suddenly feel very defensive. "You two can hardly disapprove, can you?" 

"No, no, wwwe don't," Tara says quickly, aware that her girlfriend isn't handling this very well. "We approve, we just wondered, because you know you don't get a lot of, um.." 

"We thought you might like a bit of quality alone-time, so to speak, and as you saved us last night…" 

"Aaagain…" 

"We wondered if there was anything we could do to help." 

This is amazing. 'Great minds think alike,' as dad used to say (and part of my mind can't help adding, 'fools seldom differ,' in my mother's voice). I look at them once again, pretending to consider. Since they've offered, might as well- oh, blow it, I'll tell them the truth. More or less. 

"Matter of fact, there is. I've been going to do something nice for him for a bit now, but it takes me more time to set it up- no going out all day, and such. If you girls could run a few errands for me, that would be great- then it could all be ready for tonight." 

"Sure- just give us a list." 

"Okay- but you're writing it." 

"If you insist." 

"I do. So- got pencil and paper?" 

Tara delves into her handbag and pulls out said items, handing them to her red-headed lover. 

"Right," I say. "Let me see- some stuff from my crypt, the suitcase that's hidden under the coffee table; potatoes and peas; mint and fresh blood and…" It's quite a long list by the time I'm done, quarter of an hour later, and Red has industriously scribbled it all down. 

"We've better be off, then. I've got class fairly soon, but one of us will be back this afternoon, with the stuff. Okay?" 

"That's great," and then I say a word Spike would never say, for the second time today, "Thanks." 

"You're welcome," Tara tells me, as they rise and leave. I remain sitting, thinking hard and fast. Food coming this afternoon, say three maybe four, no reason to expect Rupert earlier than six, even if they shut the shop at five thirty- that gives me from now, ten thirty seven if the clock is right, about four hours to prepare myself and the apartment, before I need to be ready to begin cooking. Better get cracking. 


	3. To Love

Title: In Sickness and In Health, Chapter Three- To Love  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: Preparations contiune, and emotions run high.  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
Spoilers: None (season four)  
Warnings: Mild slashy overtones, but you know what pairing it is, so…  
Author Notes: I don't know why, but I'm very partial to "William cries on Willow's shoulder". So here I go again.  
Story Notes: None.  
Disclaimer: Just borrowing. Joss is God of all the Buffyverse. 

A few hours later 

Spike woke with a start when the doorbell went, and it was a moment or two before he was coherent enough to answer the door. 

"Hey there Spike," Willow said when he did so, trying to hide her smile at his sleepy eyes and tousled hair. "Nice rest?" 

"Soft bed, better than the table in the basement. And you're early." 

"True- but that could be a good thing. If you let me put these down inside, I'll go and fetch the rest- Xander gave me a lift, but he couldn't stay to help carry." 

For the second time that day he stood back to allow the red head to enter. This time, however, she went back past him almost at once, saying, "I can help for maybe two hours, then I must be off again." Spike didn't comment, just nodded, which she took to mean, "Yes, I'd like that." Given what she knew of his organisational skills- and what she knew he knew of hers- she hadn't expected anything else. 

When she returned, staggering under the weight of a large suitcase, he let her get inside and then shut the door. 

"So, bossy, tell me what to do." 

"Planning is a good beginning. You sound like you know what you want, but a bit precarious on the how-to-get-it-front. Yeah?" 

Quietly, "It's been a long time since I last did this." (And I don't really want to remember the other times.) 

"Well…" She looked around, thoughtfully. "What I do, is cooking and cleaning first, then you chose what to wear, set the table, and wait for the man of your dreams to arrive." he raised an eyebrow at that. "What? You can't tell me you never dream about him." 

"No comment. From the way you summarised that, it sounds like as case of, "what do you want, cooking or cleaning?"" He caught her look, and added, "You did say you'd help," in his best you-don't-love-me-anymore voice. He'd never had the courage to try it on Giles, but it had worked a treat with Dru. 

"Cooking, then. But you might have to give me some pointers on the proper British way of doing things." 

"How about the proper British recipe book I was going to use?" 

She grinned. "Sounds good to me. Let's get going, then." They did so, quietly at first, but soon chattering like old friends on a marathon gossip. 

"You never did tell me if you ever dream about him." 

"No? Fact is- and I'd rather this didn't get around- I do, sometimes. The other night, I dreamt that he found a spell that would make me human, make him able to…" 

"To what?" 

"To…to… look, can't we change the subject? I may not be able to bite humans any more, but I can tell when they're trying to get me to say embarrassing things." 

"What is it, Sp.. William? Do you think he doesn't love you?" 

"I know he doesn't," he snaps, struggling to remain in human guise, his eyes glinting amber. "Now are you going to shut up and help, or leave?" 

She ignores his threatening manner, seeing the gold in his eyes but confidant that she is right. "Neither. I'm going to help as best I can- and number one thing is you have to be honest about what you feel. No point aiming for romantic if you're going to back out of the really important part. You've always prided yourself on being honest, haven't you? Well, be honest now. You love him, he loves you." 

"That's easy for you to say. You're beautiful. People love you. They have to be dead and barmy before they even want to be around me." 

"Not true. I don't know about in the past. I wasn't there, and I suspect you've changed a lot. What I can say is- Giles loves you, I like you, Tara likes you, even Xander and Buffy could come round to it. They don't actively hate you anymore, anyway. So there." 

"Three people who like me. Yeah, that's a real fan club." He turns away. 

"Now you're just being sarky and wiseass. You never said you wanted a fan club- it's asking a bit much- and one of the three loves you. Isn't that enough?" 

Subdued now and still facing away from her, he replies, "I don't know. I've never had this before." 

Willow stares at his back for a moment, and then realises that this is the absolute truth. 

She steps across to him, cautiously, unsure how much she has hurt his feelings and aware that his shoulders are heaving with silent sobs, to put a hand on his back. 

"That's okay, William. You don't have to know." 

Seeming to need the touch, he turns around to bury his head in the little hollow between her shoulder and neck. Somewhere at the back of his mind he wonders, (when did she start calling me William?) but it was quickly squashed by his fears: that he wasn't loved by the man he'd fallen for, that he was going to be rejected once again, that no one could truly care about him. 

Later, when he has calmed down, they finish cleaning and cooking, and when they stop for coffee and blood, Willow gets around to asking him what was in the box she'd been asked to bring from its hiding place in his crypt. 

"Clothes," he tells her, knowing that a vague answer wouldn't be accepted, but determined to try it anyway. (Dammit, I'm a vampire. An evil vampire. Does no one take that seriously anymore?) 

Apparently Willow doesn't notice his attempt at badassness, because she only says, "What kind of clothes, silly? Some of us where under the impression you only have the one set." 

"Well, officially I do." 

"But unofficially?" 

"It was D…" His voice tails off, pain suddenly flooding him again. 

She comes to sit by him on the sofa, ready to return to her role as vampire comforter. "Drusilla?" 

He swallows hard, and nods. "She liked to… to play dressing up. Sometimes just her, but sometimes me as well. I kept…some things, for the purpose. I thought maybe… but maybe not." 

"You thought they would be nicer than the jeans-and-t-shirt look, for the romantic dinner? I'm only guessing here, but based on what I've seen of her taste in clothes, I'd say you're right. If you can't stand wearing things with memories like that, then we'll see about something else- I expect Xander or Riley has something smarter that would fit you- but I think we should look at what you've got, first." 

Her speech gives him the fresh confidence that he needs, and he grins. "Some of it's a bit strange- stuff we took from the people we killed- but some of it's passable. I hope." 

"We won't know if we don't look," she says, and moves across to get the suitcase. 

One by one, she takes out the items, all carefully cleaned and neatly folded up, ready to be worn, barring the occasional tear or bloodstain. There are shirts on top- t-shirts and the red over shirts he wears everyday, but after two or three layers of those she comes to more exotic things. As she lifts them out, she names what she recognises, and turns to him for explanations of what she doesn't. 

"White shirt, dressing gown, umm…" 

"Norfolk jacket." 

She frowns, looking at the pocket covered garment, before moving on. "Smart shoes, baseball cap, err.." 

"Zoot suit." 

"Oh." It is a long jacket, blue with pinstripes, with padded shoulders and a fitted waist. The trousers that match it taper to narrow cuffs, and it occurs to her that it probably really does suit Spike. The blue is a little darker than his eyes, just enough to bring them out, and she sets it aside from the main pile. He frowns, wondering why, but she goes on. 

"Several ties, army jacket and finally…" She hold up a pair of baggy trousers, too short to come much below the knee, made of a light cotton. 

"Knickerbockers," he tells her, half embarrassed, half smiling. "So, red, what do you think I should wear tonight?" 

She looks at the pile again, then at the zoot suit. "That," she says, pointing. "The- what did you say- zoot suit. It's a good colour, and smart. I'd say a tux, if you had one, but since you don't, I think the suit is good. With the white shirt, and the matching tie." 

"I only wore it once. We killed the guy who was wearing it because D.. she thought the colour would suit me." 

"She was right," Willow says quietly. "Go and put it on, let me see how you look." 

He leaves the room, carrying the clothes and trying to hold back the memories- not to mention the feelings that go with them. 


	4. and to cherish

Title: In Sickness and In Health, Chapter Four- 'and to cherish.'  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: William has made dinner. Fluff.  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
Spoilers: None (season four, very AU)  
Warnings: None (unless you want to be warned about soppiness.)  
Author Notes: None.  
Story Notes: the POV switches back and forth further through, changes marked by *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* I hope it's not too confusing.  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss is God, you know the drill. I make no money from this venture. 

That evening 

"Come in, Rupert," he says, opening the door as I'm getting my keys out. I look at him to smile my thanks, and do a quick double take. He's wearing something very akin to a zoot suit and it looks stunning. I'm not sure if it's the clothes themselves, the body inside them, or simply the fact that they don't include and denim or leather. Perhaps all three. Anyway, it renders me speechless. 

"Like it, pet?" he asks. When I nod, he pulls me indoors and grabs a brief kiss prior to my taking any notice of what he's done to the room. Not that it's in any way bad, you understand, just- tidy. No books strewn all over. No coating of dust on the shelves. No old pizza boxes, on the table- instead, candles. China plates. 

"You want to eat now, or later?" 

"Now," I reply. Apparently my brain hasn't completely seized up from the shock- yet. I sit at the table- a table with wine glasses- while he briefly disappears from view, only to reappear within seconds bearing dishes of food that smell- to be precise, they smell like the things like used to emerge from my mother's kitchen. Alright, so now I'm extremely hungry, not just the very I was on the way home. So much so my mouth is watering. 

He lifts the lids one at a time, explaining as he goes. 

"Potatoes with mint in, that's like my mother used to make; mushy peas, just the way you like them; mutton- it was nearly lamb, but I settled for mutton; and Yorkshire pudding, because… well, it's what you're supposed to have." 

He looks at me, his clear blue eyes brought out by the colour of the fabric and soft curls of honey coloured hairs hanging down his forehead. For a moment, I am captivated by the sight, but then I realise he is looking for something. Appreciation? Acceptance? Encouragement? I'm not sure, and so I plump for an honest reaction. 

"It looks wonderful, William- and it smells better. Am I allowed to taste it, or am I to wait until I'm drooling onto the tablecloth?" 

That earns me a grin much more Spike than William –and, dear lord, I sounded like I was channelling Xander. I still do. Shut up and watch William, as he picks up a spoon and begins to serve out. The way the suit…no, eat now, other things later. 

Later, when my suspicions have been laid to rest (the food tasted just like it had been cooked from the recipe book my mother used, probably the same one William's mother used, but certainly the one I keep on the shelf of non-demonology books. I also suspect that William didn't do the cooking. He is incapable of following instructions to the letter, and my guess is that Willow or Buffy helped, maybe Tara. I deem it best to keep quiet, however- it's the thought that counts, and he did set the table. He's left handed, and always sets the knife on the left. It must be some measure of how I feel about him that I notice things like that, and spend time thinking about them, imagining those clever fingers handling the cold metal…bad Rupert, you're getting distracted). We move over to the sofa, but the television stays off, the only source of light the flickering candles. 

He sits awkwardly, half facing me, half turned away. We are holding hands, so, watching his face to gauge the reaction, I lift his hand with mine and kiss the back of it. Immediately his eyes are on me, smiling at the gesture but also with a spark of nervousness, even fear, within their depths. As that was the general sort of thing I was hoping for, I twist all the way around to face him fully, left knee bent so that my foot tucks under my right knee. Then I let go of his hand just long enough to move it to my other one, and slide my arm up behind his shoulders, ready to pull him close. 

I take the time to send whatever spirit is guarding me today a quick prayer of thanks that Anya let me sleep when I fell asleep on the pile of new invisibility cloaks I was meant to be cataloguing, because that is the only reason I'm still awake, before I say, "Thank you, William." 

He has been watching me all along, tensing his muscles so as to remain still, and now he widens those expressive eyes in surprise, asking for more details. 

"Thank you for being here," I continue. "Thank you for dressing up for me, for supper, for not trying to make me talk when I was eating, for cleaning the apartment. Thank you for setting up this evening for me." 

He smiles, but doesn't say anything, apparently deciding that it's now my turn to do the work. Which is fine by me- I have plenty to say. 

"I've really enjoyed it, but there is something missing." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Yeah. I'm not human, and he doesn't love me. I don't trust myself to speak without letting him see my tears, so I just concentrate on staying where I am, not snatching my hand away and running off to stake myself. Any time with him is better than no time. 

"… what we're missing is honesty. We've been a couple, living and sleeping together, working together, for nearly six months, but neither of us has ever really begun to talk about how we feel." 

Ah, so this is where he asks me how I feel, and I…I should have written and rehearsed that declaration of love after all. Here it comes, the dreaded- no, it doesn't sound like a question. 

"I really don't know how you're going to react to this, but I've got to say it." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

He continues to look at me, carefully hiding whatever he is feeling behind what I my mind I call 'the mask of Spike', the picture of I'm-a-bad-vampire-with-no-feelings-and-I-don't-care-about-yours. It must have been cultivated over many years to transform him into what he believed Drusilla wanted him to be, but now he uses it to hide when his emotions are in turmoil. When he's wearing jeans and boots, it suits him very well, and must have protected him from much heartache over the years- if not the pain of feeling, then the pain of his feelings being known. On the other hand, it doesn't quite go with the zoot suit and what I can now see are patent leather shoes. 

Stop thinking, Rupert, look down at his hand in yours and say what you have to say. He can't- won't- wouldn't- bite you. 

"William, I…I love you." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

What! That's supposed to be my line, and he's supposed to reject me! Does that mean I should- no, William, you want this, react the way he does when you fantasize the ideal way of telling him about your feelings. Let a little smile out past the mask, turn around a touch, and lean forward into his embrace. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

He frees his hand from mine, as I'd feared he might, but it is only to run it up my arm, and my fears are calmed as he leans forward into my embrace. It makes me supremely happy, even though the position is more than a bit awkward, because as he nestles up to me, I hear him whisper, "Love you too, Rupert." 

I clasp him tight at that, and know that this will rapidly turn into something else. I know because he has begun to pepper light kisses up and down my neck and over my ear, all the bits of exposed skin he can reach. This evening will go down in my private diary as one of the best of my life. 


	5. Interlude 1: I Don't Know How to Love Hi...

Title: I don't know how to love him: Interlude 1  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
Rating: PG  
Category: Romance  
Pairing: Spike/Giles (tending William/Rupert)  
Summary: Song-fic, same song as the title. I feel sure this has been done before, for one pairing or another, but this is my take on it for this pairing.   
Note: Lyrics from http://www.jcsarchive.8m.com/, with many thanks. Spike POV.  
Spoilers: For seasons 4,5, and 6.  
Timing: July 2002? Soon after season 6 ends.  


It's like the chit sang. 

"I don't know how to love him.  
What to do, how to move him.  
I've been changed, yes really changed.  
In these past few days, when I've seen myself,  
I seem like someone else."  


Barring the fact that I can't see myself, that's spot on. This new soul has really messed me up, and I think I am a different person. I'm truly William again- he called me that before, but now it's for real. I only hope his feelings haven't changed. 

"I don't know how to take this.  
I don't see why he moves me.  
He's a man. He's just a man.  
And I've had so many men before,  
In very many ways,  
He's just one more." 

Just one more- but more than that. No other man is like him. When I look back of the loves of my life and unlife- Elizabeth, when we were only seven; Cecily, when I was old enough for rejection to really hurt; Drusilla, the woman who gave me eternal life, who loved me as only she could; Angelus, who taught me what I needed to know, my Sire- emotionally, if not in fact; Dalton, my sidekick and help-mate, when Dru was ill and I needed strength only he could give; my infuation with Buffy- there is a pattern, of sorts. They all were supiour to me, even the one I dominated. They were a class above me, at at school or socially, physically or mentally, in age or wisdom. They see things I don't, sometimes litarally, sometimes metaphorically, but only Rupert Giles has ever offered to share that knowledge with me. 

"Should I bring him down?  
Should I scream and shout?  
Should I speak of love,  
Let my feelings out?" 

I told him before, so it's not like it's a real surprise: he knows I used to love him, but since then he's been betrayed- by me, no less. I sold them out to Adam, because I couldn't cope with the emotional effects of being good. I slept with Harmony, with Buffy and with Anya- what's a creature of the night if he can't suduce young girls? Okay, young women. I did and do love Buffy, but I can see that what I did hurt her more than my poncey Sire ever did, so I curb my impluses and care for her safety, not her satisfaction. I like Anya, but she seems to want to be with Xander, and I don't like her that much. I'm so confused- what do I do? 

"I never thought I'd come to this.  
What's it all about?"  


It's about needing him, it's about wanting someone to care again, it's about wanting to make amends for what I did. It's about whether he'll take me back. 

"Don't you think it's rather funny,  
I should be in this position.  
I'm the one who's always been  
So calm, so cool, no lover's fool,  
Running every show.  
He scares me so." 

That's not always true: I try to run the show, but it doesn't always work. He scares me, though, because if he doesn't take me back, I'll kill him. No- I'll kill myself. I could never bring myself to hurt him, even if it was possible with this damn chip. 

"I never thought I'd come to this.  
What's it all about?   
Yet, if he said he loved me,  
I'd be lost. I'd be frightened.  
I couldn't cope, just couldn't cope.  
I'd turn my head. I'd back away.  
I wouldn't want to know." 

I guess I just have to try. He understands so much, he might know what to do. If I don't try, I'll never forgive myself. 

"He scares me so.  
I want him so.  
I love him so." 


	6. Interlude 2: I Asked My Own Heart

Title: I asked my own heart: Interlude 2  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)  
Category: Songfic, a slip-in section of a series  
Timing: Post season six, following AU previously established.   
Summary: William has succeeded in re-kindling the relationship, and Giles takes time to time about it.  
Notes: Not my characters or my song. Lyrics from http://www.geocities.com/centigrade_j/translations/love2000.htm, with many thanks. No, I don't speak Japanese or even know this song, I just really needed some lyrics to write around and Yahoo turned up trumps. 

"I asked my own heart, "where does love come from?"  
I don't have any interest in "fake things", I only wanna see what's real." 

Is my love for William real? I've felt it all along, and it hurt me deeply when he betrayed me, first to Adam, then by ignoring me for Harmony: then by sleeping with me and refusing to admit he felt anything for me- then, in my absence, sleeping with (well, I doubt they did much sleeping, but I'm English, and she's like a daughter to me. I don't have to deal with it) Buffy, and Anya. 

"I'm sick of the depressing news and stories that have nothing to do with me   
since today the wind feels especially nice, I change into a happy mood." 

They are all quite capable of handling things now- Buffy can help Willow enough to get her through from here, and with Anya to help kill demons they are quite an effective team. I'm not needed here any more. 

"I didn't notice, I must've been naive.  
so I want to try to love myself and other people too. 

My dreams just blow up bigger and bigger, so I've ignored others feelings.  
I wonder if someday I'll understand, The balloon I let go of flew away." 

I let go of William, because I couldn't deal with my feelings, and he went over to the other side. The others had accepted the idea that I loved him, but in the end I kept pushing him away. It was too soon after Jenny, after Olivia, too much like Ethan all over again, and I couldn't cope with being hurt. 

"even though I exaggerate (my age) I can't go back to that time,   
so I want to be recognized now.   
Even if I overlook the things most precious to me, I can just go and find them again" 

Well, sometimes I can. William is one of the most precious things I've ever been privileged to have- his love is deep, and before I rejected him it was true.   
He must have thought I didn't love him. It wasn't that I did- I did, I do- but that I wasn't ready for it. With Buffy's training to attend to, the Magic Box to care for, and his growing affection for my Slayer, not to mention the other troubles in our lives (and unlives) it was all just too much for me. 

I always said, "que cera cera" (whatever will be will be)  
but there are some things that will never be no matter how much you try." 

I thought it was that way with him, after Adam, after he went for Buffy again, after I went back to England. It couldn't be- how could he still love me? We would sleep together occasionally, when we needed company, but it didn't really work because neither of us felt we could be honest. I was afraid he might lead me back to my dark side, make me into Ripper just as Ethan did. I was in enough danger of that when Buffy was dead anyway. Perhaps only Willow really appreciates how much danger I was in, since she's the one who fell. 

"I asked my own heart, "where does love come from?"  
Various things change little by little but, it means I exist here." 

I love him, and I must tell him: but I must also go back to England. Willow needs me there. 

"I didn't expect it to be this way, a fairy tale that's all over the place.  
like a riddle, the importance of loving someone is not just fate,   
or even about sentimentality, I guess its something that's strong and unseen." 

He has a soul now. That is a true surprise, and that fact that he went through trials to get it, made up his mind and went, is both impressive and almost frightening. If he can get a soul just by setting his mind to it, what can't he get if he tries? 

"I asked my own heart, "where does love come from?"  
You won't know how strong the attraction of an encounter with your love is  
until you take a bite out of love." 

I love him, and he loves me. We have a long way to go, but the possibility exists that we will succeed. I have to give it a try. If I don't try, I will never be able to forgive myself. 

"I asked my own heart, "where does love come from?"  
I'm not interested in fakes, I only wanna find the real thing.   
I've looked for you for a long time."  



	7. Interlude 3: The Best Part Of Breaking U...

Title: The Best Part Of Breaking Up: Interlude 3  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk   
Summary: A song-fic. Giles and Spike are back togther, post season six. Number three in a series of song fics.  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)  
Spoilers: A few for the end of Buffy season 6.  
Warnings: Slashy.  
Author Notes: This is the last part of the first Interlude in the Demon!Cuddleverse series. Read 'In Sickness and In Health', technically the Prologue, to understand the background.  
Story Notes: Lyrics from http://home.t-online.de/home/walterv/ronettes.htm. Yahoo turned up trumps again. Copyright is Phil Spector, Vince Poncia, and Pete Andreoli, as far as I know. The POV switches back and forth. Giles in [square brakets], Spike in {curly brackets}, lyrics in "quotation marks".  
Disclaimer: Not mine, the characters or the lyrics.  


"Baby, when we break up from a quarrel or a fight   
I can't wait to have you back and hold you, oh, so tight" 

[We broke up all those years ago because he was falling more and more for Buffy. That's what I said at the time. Now, I think maybe I had more issues than he did. I thought-feared- that he'd bring Ripper out again.] 

"Tell me why, I want to know-oh-oh   
Tell me why is it so-oh-oh   
That the best part of breaking up is when you're making up   
Best part of breaking up is when you're making up   
But, after breaking up, be sure you're making up with me" 

{He didn't want to be Ripper, and, in those days, I tried to bring that out in him. Now, things have changed. Even after Buffy died, I taunted, teased, nearly shagging him, then slipping out into the night to find something to punch. I had to take my anger out on someone, but it wasn't fair to choose him- I love him. I see that now. The love I have for him is deeper than I ever felt for Buffy- love, not infatutaion.} 

"Every time you leave, I get those teardrops in my eyes   
But they seem to go away when you apologize   
Tell me why, I want to know-oh-oh   
Tell me why is it so-oh-oh   
That the best part of breaking up is when you're making up   
Best part of breaking up is when you're making up   
But, after breaking up, be sure you're making up with me" 

[When he told me that he wanted to be with me, that was the sweetest moment ever. It must have been. He apolgised for all the things he'd done, for not being able to see his feelings for Buffy for what they were- lust- and asked me if he could stay in the appartment for a day or two. I said yes, and we slept together for the first time since I left for England, over a year ago. No sex, just the sleeping, curled up against each other, his smaller body cradled in mine. Proper love-birds, we were, in our little nest.] 

{Being with him again is wonderful. What I had with Buffy wasn't fulfilling, it didn't give me what I need. He can. There's real love there, caring, and he feels things as deeply as I do. You can't always see it, but Rupert has a poet's soul, like mine. We're soul mates, us too, and I'm so drunk on the feeling of being with the man I love I can hardly think stright. Well, since it looks like I'm being gay for now, I guess that doesn't matter.} 

"C'mon, baby, c'mon baby   
Don't say "Maybe"   
Well, it makes no difference who was wrong   
Just as long as I'll be with you" 

[I hope I can be with him for the rest of my life. The part of me that never submitted to the Watcher's Council says 'and beyond'. I want to be with him forever, always able to feel him in my arms, hold him when he dreams and talks in his sleep, let his arms slide about me, lift me, when I'm tired. This love is eternal.] 

{He'd make a fine vampire. I can't turn him, and I'd want him to have his soul back afterwards, but I want to turn him because then we could be together always. My love for Drusilla is eternal, but my love for him is stronger. She's more like a sister to me than the mother a Sire is meant to be, though we will always have that connection.   
Strange, how I find I want men when they have souls, and women without. Not true of Buffy, of course, but then I lust after her, my desire to kill the Slayer turned into something else, twisted and posioned by a piece of plastic and my own romantic notions. My new soul has all but cured that- it was the obbsession of my demon, not the love of my true self.} 

"Baby, I'll be lonely till you're back where you should be   
But, baby, I belong to you and you belong to me   
Tell me why, I want to know-oh-oh   
Tell me why is it so-oh-oh   
That the best part of breaking up is when you're making up   
Best part of breaking up is when you're making up   
But, after breaking up, be sure you're making up with   
The best part of breaking up is when you know that you're making up with me!!!" 

[Knowing that he has come back, that he has made up with me, that he is in the next room even now, brings a whole new light to my life. I still have things to face, problems in England to deal with, Buffy to help, Willow to assist, but it is easier to face anything when you don't feel so alone anymore.] 

{The fact that he has taken me back, that he still loves me, makes it all easier to face. The Slayer still doesn't know that I have a soul, though she might have heard that I'm back in Sunnydale. I think Rupert will want to keep our relationship secret a bit longer- let them take me back one step at a time, first "Spike, with his new soul," then "William, who went and got a soul of his own free will (excuse the pun)" and finally, "William, who went to get a soul because he loved Rupert- and still does." It'll be a while before they know that we're a couple, but I'm cool with that.} 

"C'mon, baby, c'mon baby   
Don't say "Maybe"" 

[Let me tell them, one thing at a time. First your soul, then why, then us. Don't say 'maybe' in that sulky tone of voice, and tell them anyway. It's got to be slow.] 

{Don't say you're not sure. When I ask if we'll tell them eventually, say, "when it's time," not "maybe." Maybe always means no, I've learnt that much over the years.} 


	8. The English Patience: Monday

Title: The English Patience: Monday  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: Having made up with Spike, Giles has nonetheless decided he must take Willow to England. They spend a week there.  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)  
Spoilers: End of season 6.  
Timing: Early season 7. Post 'Songfic interludes' and pre 'First Cuddles'.  
Warnings: Mild slashyness, romance.  
Author Notes: Part of my 'Demon!Cuddleverse series'. Section 3, to be exact.  
Story Notes: This is a collection of e-mails, telephone calls and diary entries. Hope the labelling clear enough.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing, not even chocolate money, Joss is God, etc.  


"Hello?"  
"Hello, William. Just thought I'd let you know we've arrived safely."  
"Good- I'll tell the others, too."  
"Thank you. Everything okay?"  
"Yeah, everything's fine this side of the pond. Enjoy your stay in sunny Engliand, Rupes."  
"I'm sure I'll enjoy it- just as soon as it stops raining."  
Laughter. "Sounds like you're really in the old country."  
"I am indeed."  
"Love you."  
A pause- surprise. "You too."  
"Well, later then, pet. Don't want you to waste money, long distance and all that. Bye."  
"Goodbye."  


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com]  
To: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  


Hi Spike.  
I know Giles rang you, but I thought I'd confirm it. He seems a bit jumpy, kinda nervous. We're okay, really. I don't know what you said to him- and I don't want to, thanks- but you calmed him down more than I've been able to all day. The flight was fine, but he didn't enjoy it. Leaving you, in part, I expect. Give my love to Buffy, Xander, Dawn, whoever.   
Willow.  


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  
To: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com]  


Willow,   
I know you won't have much time to e-mail me and stuff, but it's good to hear from you. I'm not sure how to tell him, I don't want him to feel guilty about going, but I miss him terribly. Not even sure why I'm telling you this. I'd better go now, nibblet wants me to play Scrabble or some such.   
William. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Giles' diary 

10:30pm. I have resolved to write in my diary every night while in England. It'll give me something to do, and help me calm myself before I try to sleep. I think I need that. Normally when I feel like this, I get drunk. It isn't the most helpful reaction, but it soothes the pain, removes the confusion, and eases the hurt. In the morning, I have a hangover, and attending to that distracts me from the feelings I can't express.   
Unfortunately- or fortunately- I have Willow to look after for now, so drink isn't an option. I miss William. His absense is like a hole, like a a gap in my life. We'd only been together for a month or so after his return to Sunnydale, when Willow and I decided we had to travel to England.   
The Scoobies know he has a soul, but they don't know we're together, at least not officially. I suspect Willow has guessed. I'm trying not to talk about how I feel about William to her, for fear of bringing up uncomfortable memories of Tara. It seems best to let her bring the subject up.   
Oh! William. I'm sorry I wasn't faster to reply when you said you loved me. I love you, deeply, dearly, but I'm not used to say it aloud. I spent so long hiding it, not saying it, for fear of being ridiculed, that to say it at all takes a little readjustment. Forgive me that, please. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

William's Journal. 

  
There- doesn't it look neat? I haven't kept a journal for years, not since Dru- well, you know what she did. I don't want to think about it. I understand why Rupert had to leave, but I don't like it. He's left me all alone, with the nightmares my soul brings. Perhaps he doesn't know that I have them- he rarely wakes, and when he does I don't always tell him why I'm awake.   
His mere presence soothes me, his warm, heavy body next to mine a comfort. I love him. I wish I didn't, because it hurts, because the ones you love will always leave or reject you. He rejected me for years, refused to aknowledge that he still loved after the Adam fiasco. My soul tells me I betrayed him- I knew that before- but he left me, too, and I'm not really sure why. It was years before I knew why Angelus left us (and at the time I thought it must have been me. Egocentric bastard, aren't I? And there was a time when I've have said that in self-praise.) and Dr   
I won't write it. I can't say it, hardly think it, so I won't write her name. She left me, she hurt me, even now that the despair has simmered down and I have a soul to tell that I truly only did what she wanted. I never hurt her- how could I? If I never see her again, I can just ignore my feelings and hope they'll go away.   
I wish Rupert was with me. 


	9. Tuesday

Title: The English Patience: Tuesday   
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona   
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk   
Summary: Having made up with Spike, Giles has nonetheless decided he must take Willow to England. They spend a week there.   
Rating: PG-13 (for language)   
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)   
Spoilers: End of season 6.   
Timing: Early season 7. Post 'Songfic interludes' and pre 'First Cuddles'.   
Warnings: Mild slashyness, romance.   
Author Notes: Part of my 'Demon!Cuddleverse' series. Section 3, to be exact.   
Story Notes: This is a collection of e-mails, telephone calls and diary entries. Hope the labelling clear enough.   
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing, not even chocolate money, Joss is God, etc. 

"Yes?"   
"Hi Buffy."   
"Oh, hi Willow. How's it going?"   
"It's okay. Still raining, but that seems to be normal over here. The magic's…well, it's not. No magic at all."   
"Good. Have you been out at all?"   
"Yeah- went into London today, to the British Museaum and the Watcher's offices. The British museam is great- all these old things, and books, and Giles knew some of the people still, so they opened up some of the cases, and this one guy, Mr. Kenneth, let me help him with some ancient statues he was catalogueing."   
"Wow. Sounds like you had a good time."   
"Umm. All these books, too- and the statues, and did I mention books?"   
"You did. What's the watcher's council building like?"   
"It's just like all the other buildings from outside, but inside it's like a museam and a liabrary and an armory all rolled into one."   
"Meet anyone intresting?"   
"Our old friend Quetin Travers, for one. He didn't actually speak to me directly, but he and Giles talked for ages. Mostly about how Faith was, and how long we'd be in britian, and how you were. The Council seems to have high hopes for Faith when she's out of prision, and meanwhile they're trying to fight on their own."   
"Not a great plan."   
"No, but I spoke a younger chap- like, our age- in one of their training rooms, and he said that there's quite a movement (and in an organisation as select as the Watcher's Council that's like ten people) to get rid of some of the old folks- I guess that's Mr. Travers and co.- and bring it 'all into the twentieth century, even if we can't manage the twenity-first'."   
"If they can do that, we might be able to work with them."   
"That's what I thought, so I've got his e-mail address, and we'll keep in touch."   
"Nice work, Will. Look, I'd talk for longer, but Dawn's got a parents evening tonight and I've kinda gotta go, you know?"   
"I know. Talk to you tomorrrow, yeah?"   
"Yeah. Bye."   
"Bye." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com]   
To: Spike [williamtb@att.net] 

Spike,   
Hope the game of Scrabble went well! We went into London today- I expect Giles will tell you about it later. I really enjoyed it, though. Is my PC behaving for you?   
Willow. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Spike [williamtb@att.net]   
To: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] 

Willow,   
I'm glad you had fun. Is Giles going to ring me? I want to speak to him but he did tell me not to phone, in case it disturbed you. Don't ask him straight out- I don't really want him to know how much I miss him- but let me know, would you?   
Spike. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com]   
To: Spike [williamtb@att.net] 

Spike,   
He said he'd phone Sunnydale, but I'm not sure if that's your mobile, or Buffy, or Xander, or the Magic Box. I'll try and make sure he does phone, though. That's all I can tell you without asking him.   
Willow. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

"Hello?"   
"William? It's me."   
"Hello, Rupert. Good day?"   
"Willow enjoyed it, and I… we went into London, did the British Museam, and such."   
"Didn't you enjoy it?"   
"I've done it quite often before, you know."   
"I know."   
"How's Sunnydale?"   
"Dull. I miss you."   
"You too. I ought to go."   
"If you must."   
"Goodbye."   
"'Bye." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Spike [williamtb@att.net]   
To: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] 

Willow,   
Thanks. But where did you go in London? Something upset him, didn't it? I'd like to know what.   
Spike. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com]   
To: Spike [williamtb@att.net] 

Spike,   
We visited the Watcher's Council. I told Buffy some about this, but I think that's what's got to him. It must have been quite stressful for him- of course, it can be hard to tell when he decides not to let on how he's feeling. At least he phoned you.   
Willow. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

William's Journal 

I… oh, damn it, I don't want to write. I want to kill something. I'm going to ask Buffy if I can patrol with her tonight. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Giles' diary 

11:10pm Quetin Travers is a bastard. A complete and utter bastard. He won't let me introduce Willow to one of the few people who could really help her, and that is simply not on. I have to take some kind of action, but –god help me- I don't have a clue what. I need the Watcher's Council to give me an address, a phone number, something, but they are refusing outright.   
Willow insisted I call Sunnydale tonight, so I called William. I didn't think I could face Buffy, but william was almost worse. he knew I'd been upset by something, but I couldn't tell him what. Not when Willow might overhear, not when I'm so upset. 


	10. Wednesday

Title: The English Patience: Wednesday  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: Having made up with Spike, Giles has nonetheless decided he must take Willow to England. They spend a week there.  
Rating: PG-13 (for language)  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)  
Spoilers: End of season 6.  
Timing: Early season 7. Post 'Songfic interludes' and pre 'First Cuddles'.  
Warnings: Mild slashyness, romance.  
Author Notes: Part of my 'Demon!Cuddleverse' series. Section 3, to be exact.  
Story Notes: This is a collection of e-mails, telephone calls and diary entries. Hope the labelling clear enough.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing, not even chocolate money, Joss is God, etc.  


From: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  
To: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] 

Willow,  
Thanks for making him phone me. You can tell him I and Buffy killed a big demon last night- it was very stupid (it'd been trying to eat children from the playground, and kept running into the apperatus while it chased them, so it had concussion too), but you needn't say that. What did you do today? Nothing that upset him further, I hope.   
Spike. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] To: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  


Spike,   
We visted some of his friends in Bath today. Pagans- Charlene, her husband and a sweet little boy called Rowan. Charlene's powerful in her own way, I think- she makes people open up to them- and she had a long converstaion with Giles just out of earshot of the rest of us. It seems to have made him feel a bit better.   
He knew about the demon anyway, because Buffy phoned earlier, but I say: well done, Spike. I expect he'll phone you later.  
Willow. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Giles' diary 

9:00pm I haven't phoned William, because I'm not sure I could bear it. To hear that sweet voice, unknowing of my failure- I haven't told him, I can't tell him. Not because he mustn't find out- I want him to know- but simply because I can't bring myself to actually voice it.   
When Buffy phoned I kept my replies mostly monosyllabic. It wasn't hard- she wanted to tell me all about how she and Spike killed a big, stupid demon, and laugh at the silly creature. Perhaps tomorrow will bring better luck. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

William's Journal 

He hasn't phoned. I don't want to ring him, when he told me not to, so I've sent another e-mail to Willow. She won't pick it up until tomorrow, but it's all I can do. I wish I weren't quite so alone. 


	11. Thursday

Title: The English Patience: Thursday  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: Having made up with Spike, Giles has nonetheless decided he must take Willow to England. They spend a week there.  
Rating: PG-13 (for language)  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)  
Spoilers: End of season 6, other spoilers for early season 7.  
Timing: Early season 7. Post 'Songfic interludes' and pre 'First Cuddles'.  
Warnings: Mild slashyness, romance.  
Author Notes: Part of my 'Demon!Cuddleverse' series. Section 3, to be exact.  
Story Notes: This is a collection of e-mails, telephone calls and diary entries. Hope the labelling clear enough.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing, not even chocolate money, Joss is God, etc. 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] To: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  


Spike,  
I don't know why he didn't ring last night. maybe he was too tired, maybe it was something else. We've been doing the rounds of some liabary he knows that are fiarly local. I tried to ask him why he didn't speak to you, but he just changed the subject. I'm not sure he knows you told me about him and you, or perhaps he thinks it'll upset me because of Tara.   
I am still upset over Tara, but it'll take more than knowing that he's with someone he loves to make me go all pysco-witchy again. Hopefully he'll phone you tonight, although he still seems frustrated. I think there might be something he's trying to do without letting me know what it is- a spell or something.   
Give my love to the other Scoobs,  
Willow. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

"Rupert?"   
"No, Willow. I'll call him, Spike." ["Giles! It's Spike on the phone for you."]   
"William?"   
"'s me. How are you?"   
"I'm fine. I thought I told you not to ring up."   
"I wanted to hear your voice again, and you didn't ring me."   
"William, please don't whinge."   
"I'm not. I need you…"   
"If there's something you really need to say to me, say it: if not, please hang up. I and Willow need to be undisturbed, to do our meditions on control and such."   
"I need you to love me, Rupert. Love's bitch, remember?"   
"Goodnight, Spike. I'll see you on Saturday."   
"Rupes…"   
"Goodnight." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Giles' diary 

10:55pm It's getting harder. William rang me, and I wanted to talk, tell him everything, but with Willow in earshot, I really couldn't. I'm not sure I really could tell him anyway. Patience, Rupert.   
Patience. Why are you so impatient? It's not like you. Willow may sort herself out yet, without the help of any phycic, powerful, accessable or otherwise. It's Thursday, and we're travelling home on Saturday, so why so impatient? William is some but not all of it- hang on, when did Sunnydale become home? England is home.   
You are at home now, Rupert. Remember that. You don't ever have to go back to Sunny dale, to William. You've been without a lover for long enough before, even when there was one there willing to take you.   
I've got to calm down, take my time. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

William's Journal 

He sounded sad on the phone: frustrated, annoyed with me, and sad. I ddin't mean to annoy him, and it makes the seperation that much harder. When I find out what's upset him, I think I'll kill it or them. Chip, soul, be damned- no one hurts my lover that badly and gets away with it. No one.   
Of course, that could be why he doesn't want to tell me. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Spike [williamtb@att.net] To Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] 

Willow,   
I'm sorry if I disturbed you two, but I needed to hear his voice. I… You must know what it's like.   
William. 


	12. Friday

Title: The English Patience: Friday  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
Summary: Having made up with Spike, Giles has nonetheless decided he must take Willow to England. They spend a week there.  
Rating: PG-13 (for language)  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (tending Rupert/William)  
Spoilers: End of season 6, other spoilers for early season 7.  
Timing: Early season 7. Post 'Songfic interludes' and pre 'First Cuddles'.  
Warnings: Mild slashyness, romance.  
Author Notes: Part of my 'Demon!Cuddleverse' series. Section 3, to be exact.  
Story Notes: This is a collection of e-mails, telephone calls and diary entries. Hope the labelling clear enough.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing, not even chocolate money, Joss is God, etc. 

From: Willow Rosenburg [wrosenburg@aol.com] To: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  


Spike,  
I know. It won't be long now. He's going to e-mail you himself (I've been teaching him!), so I won't say too much.   
Willow. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Rupert Giles [rupertg@aol.com] To: Spike [williamtb@att.net]  


Dear William,  
I hope this works. Willow is an excellent tutor, but I fear I am not a good pupil. I'm sorry I was so sharp on the phone last night, but I did ask you not to ring.   
Looking forward to seeing you again,  
Sincerely yours,  
Rupert Giles. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

From: Spike [williamtb@att.net] To: Rupert Giles [rupertg@aol.com]  


Rupert,  
I'm sorry too. Please phone me.   
Love you,  
William. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

"Yeah?"  
"William? It's me."  
"Oh. Hi, Rupert. You get my e-mail?"  
"Yes, I did."  
"Good. Willow been teaching you, huh?"  
"Yes, she has. Very… intresting."  
"But fun?"  
"In its way. It still doesn't feel like real knowledge, though."  
"Telephone doesn't smell, either."  
"William, you know me entierly too well."  
"I don't think so. I think I ought to get to know you better, spend more time with you…"  
"You would."  
"Course. 's why I said it."  
"How are things in Sunnydale?"  
"Okay. Buffy took Xander on patrol last night, and I went with Dawn. We met- oh, one vampire, and Dawn got him with no help from me. A just risen fledge, not even eaten, I guess."   
"I'm glad to hear it. Dawn's doing well, is she?"  
"Yeah. Seems to have got a pinch of that Slayer-strenght. Something to do with the monks making her from Buffy, I guess."  
"It could be."  
"How's Willow?"  
"She's doing well. I ought to go back to her, really. We're doing a special concenratation exercise."  
"Watching telly?"  
"No!"  
"Then how come I can hear it in the background, pet?"  
"Oh- vampire hearing. Damn. yes, we're watching telly and I fear I might be missing Tom and Jerry."  
"Dear me! You'd better hurry back to the settee, then. See you tomorrow, love?"  
"As soon as possible."  
"Good. See you." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Giles' diary 

Today was a complete failure too, and now I've run out of time. I guess I will never meet Alice Malone. I managed to speak to William without breaking down, and we're all packed ready to get on the flight tomorrow. I'm going home- William's presence is what makes a place home. I see that now. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

William's Journal 

Only hours to go! He's coming back to me. I feared he might want to stay at home a little longer, but he's coming back. In less than twenty-four hours, he'll be with me again.   
So why do I still want to go out and kill something? The demon in me, that delights in violence, I guess. 


	13. B and C

Title: Buffy and Clem: a possible beginning  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Timeline: Set in a possible post-season six/ season seven. Part of my Demon!Cuddleverse, 'First Cuddles' series.  
  
Spoilers: vague to none for season six  
  
Rating: G. These characters are nice people.  
  
Feedback: to me at spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Disclaimer: I'm borrowing them from Joss.  
  
  
  
Late that night, Buffy walked home, post-patrol. Dawn was staying with Janice overnight, so she was surprised to see a light on in the house. Cautiously, she opened the front door- unlocked- and looked round. After all, demons don't all need invitations and they had been known to attack her at home.  
  
"Hello?" she called, "If you want a fight, let's get it over with. I need my beauty sleep."  
  
There was a sound of movement in the living room. Someone stood up hurriedly, and came, with quick, heavy steps, towards the hall. The Slayer tensed, alert, ready to strike first.  
  
"Um, no need to fight, I just popped round to see if . and the door was open." Buffy scowled, as the intruder appeared, a little timidly in the face of her aggression. It is Clem. He did his best to smile disarmingly.  
  
"I'll go if you like, it's just that the door was unlocked, and you were all out, so I thought I'd better stay and make sure you weren't burgled." He began to edge nearer to the still wide-open front door, but Buffy relaxed, sighed, and finally smiled.  
  
"It's okay, Clem. Thanks for checking. You can stay awhile if you like." She looked around the empty room, as if seeing the whole house, and added, "I could kind of use the company."  
  
"Thanks." Clem smiled broadly at her, and closed the door. There was a slightly awkward moment as they stood in silence, and then Buffy moved past Clem to the sitting room, where she proceeded to sit down rather heavily on the sofa. She leant her head back and closed her eyes, obviously exhausted.  
  
"Are you alright, Buffy?" Clem asked, concerned. "Is there anything I can get you?"  
  
"I'm fine," she replied, her eyes still closed, "A drink and a bite to eat would be good, though."  
  
"I'll see what I can do."  
  
As she listened to Clem bustling about in the kitchen, she wondered what she was doing. This was a demon, a friend of Spike's for heaven's sake, she was allowing to prepare food for her in her own home. On the other hand, he'd never done anything really evil (the kittens weren't that bad, were they?) and he was sweet, even cute in a funny sort of way. Then a most wonderful smell wafted through from the kitchen, and she decided that she'd just stop thinking and eat whatever he gave her.  
  
A little while later, when Clem had fed and watered Buffy (which basically meant watching her eat. He spent much of the time wondering why, if she ate so much, she was so small. Something to do with the slaying, perhaps) they sat side-by-side on the sofa and talked. At first, they spoke politely of mutual acquaintances- Spike, Dawn, Xander, Spike- and then less politely of mutual acquaintances- Spike, Spike, Spike- but then Buffy said, "I'm tiered of wasting my breath on that peroxided monstrosity. Let's stop talking shop. If you could be anyone, who would you be?"  
  
"Um, well."  
  
"No, Clem! To play this game, you have to reply spontaneously. It's supposed to come from your heart not your head."  
  
"Well, in that case, I'd be Greg from Dharma and Greg," Clem replied, and Buffy grinned. "You?"  
  
"I'd be President," she said, and then in her best forceful, deep voice, "The buck stops here." They both giggle at that.  
  
"If you could do anything, what would it be?" Clem asked, and then said, "No, let me guess- you'd be President."  
  
Buffy nods, laughing, then stops to add, "And you'd marry Dharma." Clem pulls such a face at that idea- a face of exquisite pain or horrific pleasure, it is impossible to tell- that Buffy bursts into a fresh bout of giggles, which sets Clem off again. In their laughter, they move imperceptibly closer together, until they are touching. Neither of them notices, or if they do, they do not move away.  
  
"My turn to ask a question," Buffy says when they clam down a bit. "If you could be anywhere in the world, now, where would you be?"  
  
"I'd be in Paris," Clem said instantly straight-faced, "sitting next to you in a posh hotel room overlooking the Seine. Where would you be?"  
  
Buffy laughed, a laugh of joy rather than fun. "You can't trick a Slayer with flattery, you know."  
  
"I was trying. It's the truth- and you didn't answer my question."  
  
"You're persistent. Okay, I'd be.. I'd be.. I'd be.." Buffy struggled to think of something else, not to say what was in her mind.  
  
"With me?" Clem suggested softly. Seemed like her plan not to tell him wasn't working. Oh, well. Never mind.  
  
Buffy looked at him, and smiled.  
  
"Yes," she agreed. "With you." 


	14. Giles and Spike again

Title: Giles and Spike: The Coming-Home Cuddle  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: Having been seperated for a week, Giles and Spike meet up again.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
  
Spoilers: None.  
  
Warnings: Pre-slash.  
  
Author Notes: This is the section that brings 'In Sickness and In Health' and 'The English Patience' into my Demon!Cuddleverse series for real. It accompanies the other 'First Cuddle' stories.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss is the man, I don't even get chocolate money.  
  
The crypt is quiet. Spike is slumped in the armchair- Rupert must have been home for a good two hours now, but he hasn't come to see Spike. Oh, no. "I'm not important," he mutters, bitterly.  
  
"That's not true, William," a tired voice says behind him. "I simply got delayed."  
  
He springs up. "Rupert!" They each head for the other, unfortuantely round oposite sides of the chair. It takes a second or two to sort out, and then they are in each others arms. Spike does his best not to crush Giles, and lets up a silent prayer of thanks that at least one of them doesn't have to breathe.  
  
When Rupert sighs and closes his eyes, leaning against William, he pulls his lover down onto his lap and into the chair. "There, rest awhile, love."  
  
"It's alright, William. It's been a hectic day."  
  
"Journey okay?"  
  
"Yes, fine. The plane wasn't great- I don't like flying much- but the rest was okay. Willow's at Buffy's for now, and will go on to her dorm in a few day, when term starts."  
  
"Did you get what you wanted in England done?"  
  
"Some of it."  
  
"What's not done?"  
  
"Quite the Spanish Inquistion tonight, aren't you? And you're growing your hair long again."  
  
"Damn stright, I am- both. Are you going to tell me?"  
  
"Not just now. I don't want to think about it."  
  
"You'll tell me later?"  
  
"Probably."  
  
"Okay- for now. You eaten?"  
  
"I have," Rupert replies without thinking, and then looks up into William's blue eyes, adding, "I hope that's okay? You didn't have something in mind, did you?"  
  
"Only a takeaway pizza," William reassures him. "I wasn't going to cook for you or anything like that."  
  
They both smile at the memory of a time, in the first year of their long and tourtous relationship, when William cooked for Rupert. It's come through a lot since then, including nearly two years when they weren't sure if they couldn't stand the sight of each other, or wanted to get into bed as fast as possible.  
  
Now he has a soul, they can take things more gently. No agonising over whether they should be doing this at all, no dreading the moment when the Scoobies find out (although even back then, the Scoobies knew things- like Giles' lovers- that they were never told outright): now it feels right, and they can relax, go with the flow. It's hard, but Rupert is free to really love, and William is secure enough to accept it.  
  
"I might in a few days time, though," he adds.  
  
"I shall look forward to it. Can we go to bed now?"  
  
"It's all made and ready for you- but."  
  
"What is it, William?"  
  
"I'm sorry about this, love, but I had no choice if Buffy wasn't going to find out we are, whatever we're doing. I've got to go and patrol with her."  
  
"That's okay. I want to tell her about this revival of our relationship, but not just now. I think it has to be done carefully."  
  
"I'm afraid it does. Well, I'll see you when I come in- but you'll probably be asleep."  
  
"I dare say. Goodnight, William." He rises, and William follows him.  
  
"Night, love." 


	15. L and A

Title: Lorne and Anya: the First Cuddle  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: What it says. Druckfic, of sorts.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: Lorne/Anya (to coin a popular Sunnydale phrase, duh!)  
  
Spoilers: Not many, maybe a few (like Anya's situation) from Buffy season 6 (I've simply ignored the events of the final episode of Angel season 3).  
  
Warnings: Drunkness, bad singing.  
  
Author Notes: Part of my series of First Cuddles, in the Demon!Cuddleverse.  
  
Story Notes: If you like this, go on to read 'The Coming Out Party' parts 1, 2, etc.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.  
  
Feedback: Thirsted for like wet things in a very dry place.  
  
'Another bar!' Anya thought. 'How lucky Los Angeles has so many. I shall go in and contiune my quest to become ineibrated.'  
  
"Hello, lady. Have you come in to entertain us tonight, or just to brighten our lives with your pretty face?"  
  
"I wish to get drunk. Excuse me, please."  
  
Lorne allows her past, but turns to watch her go, seeing something special in her aura.  
  
  
  
"No, no, money is a good thing. It's all clinky and it makes you rich," the dyed blonde woman he had noticed eariler is saying, drunkenly, to the latest in a long line of incompetent demon bartenders.  
  
"Is being rich that great? I'm never sure I'd like lots of money." the demon asks.  
  
"Well, J'ako, you're not going to have a chance to find out anytime soon. It's closing time, too." Lorne tells him, and turns to the last customer in the place. "Time to leave, sweetie."  
  
"No," Anya says. "Wanna stay here, be drunk, forget men."  
  
"That's nice, but can you go forget men somewhere else, honeybun?"  
  
"That's what he used to called me. 'Ahn, honey,' he used to say. Idiot. I wish I could curse him, but unfortuanely that's against the rules. No wishes granted for Anyanka."  
  
"So that's who you are? Anyanka. Vengeagne demon, aren't you?"  
  
"That's right. He's a idyot."  
  
"Idyot, huh? I think you shouldn't be alone tonight, baby. There's room on my couch for one drunk'n'lonely."  
  
"Can you curse him for me?"  
  
"Not a vengagene demon, Anyacakes. Come on, it's just upstairs. J'ako, shut the place up for me, would you?"  
  
"Sure, boss."  
  
Upstairs, Anya begins to sing. "Read the future for me, green man," she says, and begins to sing 'The Star-Spangled Banner'.  
  
"Nice voice, honey, but I think you should get some sleep now."  
  
"Don't wanna sleep. Want to sing.  
  
Lorne looks down at the woman- who has somehow lurched into his arms- and sighs. He looks into her future, expecting to see, well, something other than what he saw. In Anya's future, mostly he could see- himself.  
  
"Looks like I'm stuck with you, Anyanka. Let's get you sober, first off. Demon, so this should work."  
  
He drapes Anya's limp form over the couch, and reaches into a cupboard, drawing out a dusty bottle laballed, "For Druncken Demonics: Hedgebetter's Inebriation Lightener."  
  
"Here, sweetie, drink some of this."  
  
Anya takes it, and squints suspeciously at the label. "Willit get m,m,m drunk?"  
  
Lorne sees he'll be getting into trouble if he answers that. "Just swallow some," he advises.  
  
Anya does so, pulling a horrible face at the taste. "That is disgusting," she says, her voice no longer slurring. "You're Pylean, aren't you?"  
  
"That's right. Guilty as charged."  
  
"A telepath, then?"  
  
"I read futures and emotions, when people sing."  
  
"So what do you see in my future?"  
  
Lorne considers this for a moment. He goes for simple truth and giving in to an impluse he's had all evening.  
  
"This," he says, and kisses her softly on the lips. She responds eragly, and he wonders where on earth this could be leading. He isn't really allowed to see his own future. 


	16. W and D

Title: Willow and Drusilla: The First Cuddle  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Summary: What it says.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Notes: part of my 'Demon!Cuddleverse' series. Set early season seven, post- 'The English Patience', contempary with my other 'First Cuddle' stories.  
  
Disclaimer: not mine. Joss etc. please don't sue.  
  
Notes: The song Dru sings is real. Find it at: http://www.acronet.net/~robokopp/english/otakeme.htm  
  
Willow is alone in her dorm room, looking round. After the trip to England, she's decided to try collage again. There are two beds, but only hers is made: she's decided that living with Buffy isn't helping her magic addition, and a new room on campus might. It feels very lonely, to be just one with two beds.  
  
She is about to get up and change for bed, when someone knocks on the door.  
  
"Come in," she says. The door isn't locked, after all, and the only people who know where she is are her friends. It's probably Buffy, come to see her settle.  
  
"So kind, to invite me in, without even seeing my pretty face," Drusilla says, as she curls round the door. Willow recognises her- vampire!- and panics.  
  
"Silly human. You're going to do a spell for me." When Willow stands to try and leave, Drusilla grabs her arm, and her own head in quick succession. There's something familiar about the gesture, but Willow can't place it imideatly.  
  
"No spells, Drusilla, I don't use magic anymore. What did you want doing?"  
  
"I want you to take away the electrictiy. It lies to me."  
  
Suddenly it falls into place: the hand-to-the-forehead motion is exactly the same as Spike's. "You got chipped?"  
  
"Yes- nasty man put horrid wires into my head. The pictures all go away, and I'm alone."  
  
"You stopped having visions?"  
  
"No more pictures, only voices. Nasty wires sting and hurt me, so Drusilla can't eat any more."  
  
Compassion overtakes any other emotions Willow might have felt, and she says, "Don't worry, Dru. I know where Spike goes to buy his blood, we'll go and get some."  
  
"Spike's here? My Spike's still here?"  
  
"Yes, he's here, Dru." She is beautiful, Willow thinks. I know why Spike spent so long looking after her.  
  
"Nice. But- hungry now?" Funny human, Drusilla thinks. She's staring at me, as if she wants to eat me. I'd eat her, if I could. Maybe this is the girl Spike loves.  
  
They leave the room, and head out into the darkness. Willow makes sure to keep them on paths that are well lit, the paths that vampires know the Slayer patrols. Between them, she figures, they can probaly stand up to most things that would come here- humans aren't a problem, and one or tow stupid flegelings Dru could deal with, assuming her chip allows her to hurt demons.  
  
"Drusilla?"  
  
"Yes? What it is?"  
  
"Can you hurt demons? Do you know?"  
  
"Hurt demons? I think so. I can't eat them, though."  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
When they've bought blood for Dru and coffee for Willow, they sit side by side on the only park bench that is lit from the street, and talk.  
  
"It's sweet of you to find me food, pretty girl," Drusilla says. "I don't know your name, dearie."  
  
"Willow- my name's Willow- and it's okay, really."  
  
"Willow. Like the tree?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"My mummy used to sing about the willow trees, a song about love. Do you know it?"  
  
"I don't know, Dru. Why don't you sing it for me?"  
  
"If you want me to.  
  
"O take me in your arms, love  
  
For keen doth the wind blow  
  
O take me in your arms, love For bitter is my deep woe.  
  
[Tara's gone. I loved her so much, and she's gone.]  
  
"She hears me not, she heeds me not  
  
Nor will she listen to me  
  
While here I lie alone  
  
To die beneath the willow tree.  
  
[She died, and I'm alone. Her face is gone forever. I wish I wasn't alone any more: I wish I knew someone cared.]  
  
"The ribbon fair that bound her hair  
  
Is all that is left to me  
  
While here I lie alone  
  
To die beneath the willow tree.  
  
[I think I might die if I'm alone anymore. No one next to me, no one to hold. It scares me, and I can't do it anymore.]  
  
"I once had gold and silver  
  
I thought them without end  
  
I once had gold and silver  
  
I thought I had a true friend.  
  
[Buffy used be to my friend, but we're drifting apart. We might get closer, one day, but I need company now.]  
  
"My wealth is lost, my friend is false  
  
My love hath he stolen from me  
  
While here I lie alone  
  
To die beneath the willow tree."  
  
As she sings, Drusilla leans sideways, towards Willow, and closes her eyes. Her voice is rough but fair and she uses it well, bringing out the sadness in the melody. The emotion carries over to Willow so that by the end of the tune there are tears in her eyes. When she finds that Drusilla is resting on her shoulder, she wraps her arms around the vampiress and hugs her tightly, weeping.  
  
"Hush, Willow-tree girl. Let's take you back to your beddie-byes, and tug you up snug and warm."  
  
Willow is barely aware of being carried home, and when she wakes in the morning she thinks it was all a dream- until she opens her eyes to find dark hair on the pillow next to her and a cool body spooned into her own. Then, she smiles, and knows that perhaps things will be okay once more, one of these days. 


	17. X and H

Title: Xander and Harmony: The First Cuddle  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: Like it says.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: Xander/Harmony (To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase, duh!)  
  
Spoilers: Buffy season six generally, esp "Hell's Bells" and thereafter.  
  
Warnings: people being losers, reference to demon self-help manuals and snogging, mostly hormonal.  
  
Author Notes: Okay, so this pairing disgusts even me. Still, it's funny, and worryingly possible. part of my 'First Cuddles' series. If you enjoy this, look out for (or ask me where to find) the follow up fic to the 'First Cuddles': 'The Coming Out Party'. All part of the Demon!Cuddleverse.  
  
Story Notes: Harmony's self-help books are fictional. Please do not allow yourself to become too scared by them. This is my first attempt at writing fic as a screenplay, and while I've written screenplays before, this is different. I've made no attempt  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, I'd never let things like this happen to them- but then, I wouldn't be writing fanfic, either.  
  
Sunnydale Park, evening.  
  
Xander is sitting on a bench, having watched the sun set while getting drunk. He is now agreeably sloshed- drunk enough to slur his words and brain, but not so drunk he won't remember this in the morning. Behind him, we see Harmony creeping up. She is slightly tispy, and sways as she moves.  
  
Harmony (standing at Xander's shoulder): Oh, it's you. I was going to eat you, but I don't like eating people I know.  
  
Xander completely ignores her.  
  
Harmony: Hey! Hey, Xander, it's me. You remember me.  
  
He turns his head slightly and looks at her.  
  
Xander: Harmony?  
  
Harmony: That's right! You do remember me.  
  
Xander: Remember I don't like you. Thought you were a vampire now. Aren't you going to bite me?  
  
Harmony: I am, but I don't like eating people I know. It's icky.  
  
Xander: See what you mean.  
  
Harmony: So, how's it going with demon girl?  
  
Xander: We split up, at the wedding.  
  
He takes another swig from his can, and is slightly puzzled when nothing comes out. It is empty and he hasn't really noticed yet.  
  
Harmony: Oh. Her fault or yours?  
  
Xander: Mine.  
  
Harmony: So you're a free agent again?  
  
Xander: Yeah, guess so. Less of the agent, but definately free.  
  
Harmony: So we could- you know.  
  
Xander: Aren't you with someone? Pretty, dumb vampire like you.  
  
Harmony: Nah. Spike dumped me, didn't you hear? It was ages ago.  
  
Xander: No, I didn't hear. No one tells me anything.  
  
Harmony: That can't really be true. They tell you some things.  
  
Xander: Buffy didn't tell me she was shagging Spike.  
  
Harmony: Spike shagged Buffy!  
  
Xander: So I understand.  
  
Harmony: Oh. Do you want to shag me?  
  
  
  
He gazes at her, a little startled. His eyes travl down her body, taking in the blond hair, pretty face, and shaply body.  
  
Xander: I think I do. I want Anya really, but she slept with Spike, so I don't mind shagging you.  
  
Harmony: Spike shagged Anya!  
  
Xander: Yaeh. Saw it. On the table in the Magic Box.  
  
Harmony: In front of you?  
  
Xander: No, secret camera. Nerd herd. You know. Well, maybe you don't, but I'm not about to be the one who tells you.  
  
Harmony: Fair enough. Wanna shag me now?  
  
Xander: Okay then.  
  
Leaning over, he kisses her and her hands begin to grope eagerly at his body. Soon they disappear from view, and we hear a heavy thump as they roll off the bench.  
  
Harmony (out of sight): Yeah, baby, just there. Grrr. 


	18. Pairing Up

Title: The Coming Out Party Part One: Pairing Up  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Rating: PG-15. Swearing.  
  
Pairing: Buffy/ Clem. Part of my ever-expanding series, Demon!Cuddleverse.  
  
Timing: Early season seven, following on from my previous fic, Buffy and Clem: the first cuddle.  
  
Disclaimer: not mine. I'll play nice and not let anyone pay me for this (as if!), please don't sue.  
  
Notes: It may help to read this series in order, at it would be very nice for me if you'd read the rest of it anyway, but this should stand alone.  
  
  
  
Introduction Part One: Strong and Wrinkly  
  
  
  
Buffy and Clem are walking home from their date, holding hands in Sunnydale's bright moonlight.  
  
"Clem?" Buffy says.  
  
"Yes, my petal?"  
  
A vampire darts out of an alleyway behind them. Buffy releases Clem's hand, spins and stakes the creature, in one graceful move. Clem glances round, but keep going.  
  
"This evening's been wonderful," Buffy goes on, "but."  
  
"What is it, Buffy?" Clem stops walking now, and takes her strong hands in his wrinkly ones. "Is something worrying you?"  
  
"I told Dawn where I was going, but when Xander asked, I said I, I was only patrolling."  
  
Clem just looks at her, inviting confidence. "He's kind of sensitive about dating demons. With Spike, and Anya, it's sort of." she trails off.  
  
"It's okay, Buffy. So long as we tell him when the time is right, there's no need to get upset about it." He pulls her close to him, and they hug.  
  
"We'd better pick a date, make an official announcement," Buffy mumbles into his shoulder.  
  
"That's a good idea. Sometime we can both be there, with all your friends."  
  
"How about next Friday?" They move a little apart and start walking again, arms about each other.  
  
"Definite, but why then?"  
  
"We're having a 'welcome home' party for Willow. We didn't do it when she'd just got back from England, because there was so much going on, but we thought we'd have one now. How about it, Clem? You can come, we'll hold hands and tell them."  
  
"That sounds good to me."  
  
"So, where shall we go on our date afterwards?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The date to celebrate our 'coming out', so to speak. It's a tradition, Clem."  
  
"One of those ones you've just invented?"  
  
"That's the sort. Where shall we go?"  
  
"Maybe to the park, to cuddle in the dark."  
  
"Bad rhymes again, Clem? I think you've been spending altogether too long with Spike."  
  
"That must be it. Um, behind you."  
  
Buffy turns and throws the fledgling vampire over the bonnet of a handy car. It only waves its arms once before floating away on the breeze, a sudden ashy look to it.  
  
  
  
Introduction Part Two: Fangy and Clever  
  
  
  
Giles and Spike are patrolling on the other side of town, holding hands in the moonlight.  
  
"Rupert?" Spike says.  
  
"Yes, William?"  
  
"When will we be a real couple?"  
  
"What ever do you mean? I thought we 'coupled' often enough last night."  
  
"We did," Spike leers, and it crosses Rupert's mind that he'd like a photograph of that leer. It would encapsulate his William perfectly- sexy and fun, but also, as it melts into something more serious, understanding and intelligent. "The thing is, nobody knows. They accepted the idea that we had sex before, but then Adam, and." William trails off, his soul remembering more than it wants to, the happy mood broken.  
  
"It was all just bad, as Buffy would put it." Rupert gathers his lover into his arms, and holds him tight. "It's okay, Will. They've forgiven you- souled you- for the things you did then."  
  
"So we could tell them? On Friday, at the party?"  
  
"That's rushi." Rupert suddenly realises he doesn't want to sound like he's putting it off, and changes it too, "I don't want to spoil Willow's party."  
  
"It's your party too- you went to England with her." No reply. "You want to go back again, don't you? Don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I want to go back. I enjoyed my time at home, for the most part."  
  
"You've never really told me what happened."  
  
"No, well, I don't have to, do I?"  
  
"It would be nice if you did."  
  
"I don't want to. Can we not talk about it?"  
  
"If you insist."  
  
Silence for a moment, William clearly unhappy about it, until Rupert says. "It's not that I don't want you to find out, just- not now, okay? How do you think we should tell them?"  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"Stop sulking- you know what I mean. One announcement? Individually?"  
  
"Wasn't sulking. I think an announcement. Get it over with, and no one will make a scene in front of all the others."  
  
"Unless they band together to have a joint scene."  
  
"At least then you only have to sit through one."  
  
"What would we say, anyway? 'Um, I think I ought to tell you I'm sleeping with Spike again.'"  
  
"Something like that. Maybe more, 'Rupert and I are lovers now.'"  
  
"Is that what we are? Lovers?"  
  
"I think it's the only choice. What else could we say? Boyfriends? Research partners?"  
  
"Not boyfriends. We're both too old for that."  
  
"Speak for yourself, pet. I'm still young."  
  
"You're a vampire. You'll be young forever."  
  
"True."  
  
There doesn't seem to be much else William can say to that, so he switches the subject back to announcements. "How about 'My husband and I would like to announce that this vampire is my new fucktoy.'"  
  
"William!" Rupert can't restrain a giggle, though, and soon they are both laughing.  
  
"My husband and I! 'William and Rupert are now officially wed.'"  
  
"Or maybe in rhyme, 'Spike and Giles/ Could shag for miles/ So now you know/ Please let us go/ And don't stake the cad/ Who's snogging your dad.'"  
  
"Oh dear. Now I know why they called you William the Bloody Awful Poet."  
  
"Don't you just."  
  
They walk on through the quiet streets, and vampires who happen to be around stay in the shadows, knowing that these two won't notice them unless they're actually attacked.  
  
Introduction Part Three: Brickie and Blond  
  
Xander and Harmony are groping in the back of Xander's beat-up car. "I don't have to do this, you know," Harmony tells him when he breaks a kiss to gasp for air.  
  
"I.I'm....sure .you.don't," he pants in reply. "But why the hell are you here if you don't want to be?"  
  
"I didn't say that," she says. "It's just I've got a new self help book that says you must never stay with a guy who won't take you to meet his friends."  
  
"Then you can come to the party on Friday night, if you'll just.yes, like that."  
  
'Funny- Spike use to like that, too,' Harmony thinks, and she would say it, but her mouth is somewhat busy.  
  
  
  
Introduction Part Four: Red and Black  
  
  
  
Willow and Drusilla lie side by side in the park, admiring the stars. "They're pretty, aren't they?"  
  
"They are indeed, my Willow. They're all shiny and powerful, like you."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Would you do a spell for me, Willow?"  
  
"No, Dru, I don't do spells anymore. You know that."  
  
"Oh. I'd forgotten. You're like the stars, shiny and powerful but not doing anything."  
  
"That's right."  
  
"And I can't do anything either. That nasty man- what's his name? I want to curse it."  
  
"Riley."  
  
"Riley, nasty, cursed, Riley, stupid, Riley, may his bits drop off and float away down the river."  
  
"You're not so good at the spell casting, are you, Dru? I suppose that's for the best. The chip would go off and hurt you if one of them actually worked."  
  
"I want my Spike to know, my other Will."  
  
"You want me to tell the Scoobies about us?"  
  
"Yes- at the party. Can I wear my gown to the party, Willow? Can I?"  
  
"Anything you like, Dru."  
  
"I want to look my best. They don't know that the nasty man got me, and now I hurt when I eat, do they?"  
  
"Not as far as I know."  
  
"Then we'll tell them. We'll hold hands and tell them, and they'll be so happy. Even Spikey will be happy that I'm with you."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"I know. The stars whisper in my ear, just like you do."  
  
Willow rolls over, and proceeds to whisper. "Do they tell you what I'm going to do next?"  
  
Dru looks at her, dark eyes wide and loving. "No- but I know. You're going to make me happy."  
  
"I hope so." The red head sets to work, touching her new lover in all the places that Tara had taught her. 'One girlfriends dies, my next one is already dead," she muses as she does so. 'I hope this lasts forever- I couldn't bear to lose again.'  
  
  
  
Introduction Part Four: Talent and Tactless  
  
  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Lorne? It's Anyaka."  
  
"Oh, hello."  
  
"Look, Lorne, will you be my date, just for one night?"  
  
"Umm."  
  
"It's a Scooby party for Willow, and I want to go, but not alone. It's kind of a vengeance on Xander deal."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Friday night. There'll be music. You could sing, I guess."  
  
"Since you put it like that.okay."  
  
"Thanks. See you."  
  
Lorne puts the phone down, and mutters, "Strange woman. What's so intriguing about her?" 


	19. Friday Night Is Music Night

Title: The Coming Out Party, Part Two: Friday Night Is Music Night.  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: As discussed in party one, it's a Scooby-bash. A set of screenplay- type snippets, based on what the group may remember the morning after.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: (s!) Buffy/Clem, Giles/Spike, Willow/Drusilla, Xander/Harmony, Lorne/Anya, Dawn/surprise crossover guest  
  
Spoilers: Probably none- set mid season seven  
  
Warnings: Pre-slashiness, silliness, singing, getting sloshed.  
  
Author Notes: The Demon!Cuddleverse starts for real. I've recently read requests for several of the pairings here, on the LoveLorne list, the Near Her Always archive, and such like places. Thanks for the inspiration! I have a feeling that the title is borrowed from somewhere, but I can't recall where. If you know, share the knowledge. E-mail address above.  
  
Story Notes: It may help you to have read 'The Coming Out Party Part One: Pairing up' and my 'The First Cuddle' series. They'll get you into the mood, but aren't actually needed to understand the action.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine (if they were, would I be publishing free on the web and begging for feedback? I don't think so.)  
  
Extra note: There are lots of people here, and most of them interact at some point. However, three pairs do not. If you can spot which pairs don't meet or speak, let me know and you may receive a small prize of some kind (such as an e-mail!).  
  
The Summer's Residence, 7:00pm Friday night.  
  
Buffy: They'll be arriving soon. Are you ready?  
  
Clem walks slowly downstairs, enjoying the feel of his new silk shirt. 'Chosen for me by the Chosen One', he joked when she gave it to him, and the colour brings out his eyes and the firm curves of his body. It suits him.  
  
Clem: Yes. You look stunning.  
  
As indeed she does. The sage green dress with its low neckline and flowing skirt moves with her, showing her strength rather than hiding it. He kisses her, just the once. Dawn can be heard upstairs, showering.  
  
A knock on the door, and Clem goes through into the sitting room, while Buffy lets Willow in.  
  
Buffy: Hi, Wills! You come on your own?  
  
Willow: Yeah, I figured, before sunset, and all. I hope it's alright that I've invited a date? She couldn't come with me, but she'll be along later.  
  
Buffy: That's fine, Will, I'm sure. Clem's already here.  
  
Willow: Hi Clem. How's is going?  
  
Buffy: I'll just go and get snacks made.  
  
Clem: I'm fine. You?  
  
We see Buffy in the kitchen snacks and watching the sunset.  
  
Another knock.  
  
Buffy: Oh, Spike. Um, come in and- who? Harmony?!  
  
Spike: Err, yeah, these two persuaded me I should give them lifts. Exs are a bugger, you know?  
  
Harmony: Hi!  
  
Drusilla: Nice Slayer. Let me in?  
  
Buffy: I'm not sure about that, my girl.  
  
Willow (out of sight): Who is it, Buffy?  
  
Clem (coming through into the hallway): Spike! Good to see you!  
  
Spike: Yeah, nice to see you. Look, Slayer, Dru got chipped, same as me. Seems your ex met her somewhere in Mexico, and now she can't bite anymore. Just invite her in.  
  
Harmony: And me, too! Tell her to let me in, Spikey!  
  
Giles appears behind the group at the doorway.  
  
Buffy: Hey, Giles. Got any idea what's going on here?  
  
Spike: Yeah, Giles, what's going on?  
  
Buffy: I invited you in ages ago, Spike. Shut up. Giles?  
  
Giles: Why don't we all go inside?  
  
Buffy: Because I want some answers first.  
  
Spike (stepping inside): Come on in, girls.  
  
Giles: That doesn't work. Only Buffy or her sister can issue the invitation.  
  
Dawn (coming down the stairs and unable to see who is outside): Everyone can come tonight, that's what Buffy said. Even Anya.  
  
Harmony (stepping inside): Thanks, though I've got one. You're Dawn, right?  
  
Dawn: Yes. And you are?  
  
Harmony: Don't you remember me?  
  
Dawn: No.  
  
Harmony: My name's Harmony, Harm for short. Because that's what I like to do.  
  
She goes into gameface, but quickly switches out again when she feels a hand on her shoulder- Xander has arrived.  
  
Xander: But not when it's people you know.  
  
Harmony: Oh. Yes. I forgot that, for a moment.  
  
Buffy: Hello, Xander.  
  
Xander: Is everyone here now?  
  
Buffy: I think so. let's go into the sitting room and do a head count.  
  
Xander puts his hands up to feel his head.  
  
Xander: Just the one head here, Buff.  
  
She sighs and gives him an exasperated look, but she smiles as well.  
  
In the living room, everyone is geeting comfortable. Buffy crosses the room to sit by Clem, and if you're in the know, you'd see that every pair is sitting next to each other, carefully not touching in public, but wanting the support of their partner.  
  
Only Dawn is alone, and she's standing in the archway, ready to answer the door.  
  
Buffy: I think we're all here- and then some. Does everyone here know each other?  
  
Heads shake all round the room, so Buffy stands up to do a group introduction.  
  
Buffy: This is rude, but quick, and provides me with the answers I want. When I call your name, stand up and tell me why you're here. Okay?  
  
A general round of nods, and calls of 'yeah', 'yes', 'possibly' and 'not another ice-breaker game' cause one ring on the doorbell and a young man slipping in to go unnoticed.  
  
Buffy: My name is Buffy, and I'm here because it's my house. Drusilla, perhaps you could go next?  
  
Drusilla: My name's Dru, and I'm here because the stars say it's nice to have parties. And my Willow agreed, didn't you, Pretty One?  
  
Willow: I did, kind of, say she could come. Um. Buffy, you know I said something about inviting a girlfriend?  
  
Buffy: That would be Dru here, right?  
  
Dru slides her hand into Willow's and they nod together.  
  
Willow: She is chipped now, Buffy. And she needs help.  
  
Buffy: Okay. Right. Um. Xander. You're here because?  
  
Xander: Because I'm your friend, Buffy.  
  
Buffy: I sense an 'and' coming.  
  
Xander: Er, yeah. And because, I er, want to tell you, about, err.  
  
Harmony: About me and him. We had sex the other night, again, and now I know why Cordelia took such a liking to him.  
  
Buffy looks distictly like she has a case of TMI, and blinks hard.  
  
Buffy: Okay. Okay.  
  
She turns her back to her friends on the sofa, and looks at Spike, crossed- legged on the floor besides Giles' chair.  
  
Buffy: Giles, tell me that the blond souled monster is here for a normal reason.  
  
Spike: Like what?  
  
Buffy: Like, like, free food, or getting drunk, or something.  
  
Spike: Both of those, defiantly, pet. And to help Giles here tell we're shagging again.  
  
Giles nods, and reaches down to take Spike's hand.  
  
Buffy looks at Clem, who stands and folds her into his arms. She hides her face in his shoulder.  
  
Clem (to the room at large): And for our final surpirse tonight, I'm in love with buffy. I guess none of you feel you can comment, am I right?  
  
He is met with a deafing silence, until Dawn chips in, quietly.  
  
Dawn: Um, no comment about you and Buffy, but I- err, this is my boyfriend, Wesley Crusher.  
  
The young man behind her takes a pace forward, and says,  
  
Wesley: Err, hi.  
  
There is more stunned silence.  
  
Spike: Well, well. Wesley Crusher of Starship Enterprise fame, eh?  
  
Wesley: Yes, I've been sent here because my mother thought I needed a proper eduction, so I'm at UC Sunnydale for three years.  
  
Xander (looking at Spike): I knew you watched Passions, but I didn't think you did Trek too.  
  
Harmony: Oh, Spike's always liked the telly. He prefered it to me.  
  
Xander (forced to shut his eyes because Harmony is licking the sensitive place behind his ear): Harm, not now. And what kind of man would prefer Trek to you?  
  
Drusilla (her hand woven into Willow's red hair, her scarlet nail vanish clashing terribly): The kind who wasn't jealous of Angelus because he slept with me, but jealous of me because I slept with Daddy.  
  
Xander: Spike and Angelus!  
  
Drusilla: Yes. Daddy and baby liked to play together.  
  
Spike looks like he is about to react to these comments, but is restrained by Giles.  
  
Giles: William, don't spill blood indoors. You have me now, no need to listen to them.  
  
Xander leaves the room breifly, coming back to find Harmony sulking because she is the only one not being kissed. however, she rapidly brightens when she sees what he is carrying- drinks.  
  
Xander: Alcohol's here, ladies and gents. None for you, Dawn- not yet. There's orange juice.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy: So, new girlfrind a vampire, eh?  
  
Willow: Yeah. Chipped, but a vampire.  
  
Buffy: A vampire who killed Kendra.  
  
Willow: Spike killed two Slayers. And now he's with Giles.  
  
Buffy: Spike has a soul.  
  
Willow: I don't think Dru would cope with that. She's.  
  
Spike: Barmy?  
  
Willow: Private converstaion here, but yes.  
  
Buffy: Well, if it makes you happy, Will, I say, go for it.  
  
Willow: Same with you and Clem.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Drusilla: You're the venganange demon, aren't you?  
  
Anya: That's right. Want someone cursed?  
  
Drusilla: Not just now. I want him to love me first.  
  
Anya: Oh.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Spike: Buffy making you happy, then?  
  
Clem: She's a wonderful girl.  
  
Spike: Don't I just know it. Not the girl for me, though.  
  
Clem: No- but you did, you know, with her?  
  
Spike: Yeah, shagged her a few times. She's truly amazing in the sack. No wonder my Sire got a happy.  
  
Clem: That's Angel, and the curse thing, right?  
  
Spike: Let's not talk about him. Broke her heart.  
  
Clem: And yours.  
  
Spike: I said, let's not talk about it. You slept with her yet?  
  
Clem: Not yet. We're taking it slow.  
  
Spike: Never could be bothered with that. Rupert and me, we got together because we both needed a good shag.  
  
Clem: You always were inclined that way.  
  
Spike: How'd you know?  
  
Clem: Darla told me.  
  
Spike: Oh, you knew the bitch, did you?  
  
Clem: Way back, we went. Think I first met her a few years after she was turned, before your Master chappie had really got the Order sorted out.  
  
Spike: The Order! I'd nearly forgotten we had one of those. Right mess we are now, huh? The Master gone, his Annoying One ashes, Angelus souled, Darla staked herself- you heard about that?  
  
Clem: I heard. And about the kid.  
  
Spike: Don't waste your pity on the bloke. Dru and me chipped, too, we're a mess, we are. Pass me another beer.  
  
Clem: Happy to.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Drusilla: Is my Spike happy now?  
  
Clem: I think so. If he isn't, he won't remember in the morning.  
  
Willow: I'd forgotten how much fun it could be to stay sober in the middle of lots of drunk people. They're funny.  
  
Clem: Yeah, right up until they start being sick all over you.  
  
Willow: Best to leave around that point. Hey, Anya. Din't know you were coming.  
  
Anya: I wanted to come to show Xander my handsome new orgasm friend, but he's so inebrated it's pointless.  
  
Willow: Who is your new friend?  
  
Anya: His name's Krevlornswath. He's really good with his mouth.  
  
Willow: Err, TMI, here. Um, Krev, Krew- he's a demon, right?  
  
Anya: I thinks it's the green skin and little red horns that give it away. He's a singer. Most people just call him Lorne.  
  
Willow: Ah. easier to say.  
  
Lorne: Hi, cutie. Do you like kareoke?  
  
Willow: Hi, err, Lorne. I'm not, um, big on the music front, since- my boyfriend left.  
  
Lorne: Fair enough. Still, come along so time. I'd love to read your arua.  
  
Anya: But not like the way you read mine, right?  
  
Lorne: No, petal, not like that.  
  
Drusilla (crooning to the doll Dawn has brought her): Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch.  
  
Lorne (staring): Now there is one screwed up girl. You look after her, and it'll prove well worth your while.  
  
Willow: Um, thanks. Good advice.  
  
Anya: Dance now, please?  
  
Lorne (as he is dragged away to a spare piece of floor): If you like, Anya honey.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Clem: So, you and Spike are an item now?  
  
Giles: That's the idea. Me and William, an item.  
  
Clem: Struggling with the idea?  
  
Giles: Kind of.  
  
Xander: You're not the only one. I knew I saw you guys sort of together ina dream once, but that was more family together than.  
  
Clem: As a couple?  
  
Xander: Yeah.  
  
Harmony: Anya and that green guy are dancing. Can we dance, Xander?  
  
Xander: Yeah, if you like.  
  
Harmony (to the others): Excuse us. This is cool music.  
  
Clem: Yes, it is, isn't it?  
  
Giles: It's not music, it's a racket.  
  
Clem: Privatly, I prefer jazz, but I've never found it advantagous to disagree with a vampire.  
  
Giles: I only do so with William- and that rarely.  
  
Clem: Wise policy.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Anya (to Giles): Lorne's gone off to talk to Clem. Can I dance with Spike, please?  
  
Giles: Ask him. (to Spike) It's okay if you want to. I could use another drink.  
  
Spike: Okay. If you're sure, love.  
  
When Giles nods, Spike smiles at Anya.  
  
Spike: Let's put on our boogie shoes, then.  
  
Anya: I don't have boogie shoes.  
  
Spike: Metaphorical, pet. Let's dance.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Giles (tapping Lorne on the shoulder): You know your girlfriend is dancing with my boyfriend, don't you?  
  
Lorne: No. is she?  
  
Clem: Looks a lot like it. See her- over there, with the blond guy.  
  
Lorne: Yeah, I see him. Your boyfrined, huh?  
  
Giles: Yes.  
  
Lorne: Nice.  
  
Giles: He is, isn't he?  
  
Spike and Anya stop dancing when the track ends and come over. So does Buffy.  
  
Buffy: Hi. Whe did you get here, Anya? And who's the green guy?  
  
Anya: Not long agao. We just thoguht we'd pop in, join in the ritual consumppion of alcohol. This is Krevlornswath.  
  
Lorne: But everyone just calls me Lorne. Hi. You must be that Slayer.  
  
Buffy: That's me. You're a good demon, right?  
  
Lorne: Unless you consider kareoke intrincally evil, yes.  
  
Buffy: I shall have to ask Giles to check that. I've heard Angel sing.  
  
Lorne: Oh you have? Perhaps you should kill me stroght away.  
  
Buffy: Not now. It take forever to get demon stains out of the carpet.  
  
Lorne: Fair enough.  
  
Clem: I don't think I know you, do I?  
  
Buffy: No, probably not. This is Anyanka, she's a vengeange demon, and you know all I do about  
  
Lorne here.  
  
Clem: Hi, Anyanka.  
  
Anya: Anya, please. Sounds friendlier.  
  
Clem: Yes, it does. I can see why you'd want that.  
  
A new track starts, and Buffy pulls Clem away.  
  
Buffy: Here, Clem, want to take the next dance with me? I think I've covered all the friends who want to dance with me.  
  
Clem: Xander and who else?  
  
Buffy: Xander again. Anyway, wanna come?  
  
Clem: If you like. See you, guys!  
  
  
  
Spike: They make an intresting couple.  
  
Lorne: They do. Lots of love there, and much less physical lust than you often see.  
  
Spike: Could be a reason for that. I mean, not him for her, but her for him  
  
Lorne: You're a vampire, aren't you?  
  
Spike: Yeah, souled, but vampire. What of it?  
  
Lorne: Oh, only that it explains why you still have a human perception of beauty.  
  
Anya: Come on, Lorne. I want another dance.  
  
Lorne: If you like, baby.  
  
It crosses Giles' mind that he's just witnessed a narrow escape from a Spike-gets-into-a-fight scenario, and he decides to thank Anya later. When he's dealt with some of Spike's pent up energy, by putting it to another use.  
  
Giles: Come upstairs with me, Spike.  
  
Spike (still looking at Lorne): What? Oh- yeah- sure!  
  
The childlike glee in his eyes makes Rupert's day complete.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harmony: So you're the bitch I was up against, huh?  
  
Drusilla: So you're the girl that picked up my left overs.  
  
Harmony: I see why he left you.  
  
Drusilla: I left him. I had to find my pleasures.  
  
Harmony: Well, he gave me mine.  
  
Drusilla: Good. The voices say you loved him.  
  
Harmony: I did.  
  
Drusilla: So did I. I still do.  
  
Harmony: Me too. We should form a society- Spike Lover's Anynomus.  
  
Drusilla: but I know your name already.  
  
Harmony: And I know yours. So not much point.  
  
Drusilla: No. But you love Xander now?  
  
Harmony: Yeah.  
  
Drusilla: He's handsome, but all the fishes round his head disappear at the end of the spell.  
  
Harmony: Oh. Right.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Dawn: Hey, Giles.  
  
Giles: Hello Dawn, and, err, Wesley is it?  
  
Wesley: That's right, sir.  
  
Giles: Please don't call me that.  
  
Spike: Hey, nibblet.  
  
Dawn: Hey Spike. Have you met Wesley yet?  
  
Spike: Don't think so. Hey, Wes.  
  
Wesley: Wesley. Two syllabules.  
  
Spike: Fair enough. Rupes, wanna dance?  
  
Giles: No thank you, not now.  
  
Spike: Oh, better come a cuddle, had I?  
  
Giles: That's good idea.  
  
Wesley: Dawn, do you want to dance?  
  
Dawn: I'd love to! See you Spike, Giles.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Willow: Hey Dawnie, Wesley.  
  
Dawn: Hey. Having fun?  
  
Willow: As much fun as one can have at a party thrown in one's hounor.  
  
Dawn: That's lots, right?  
  
Willow: Yeah, lots.  
  
Wesley: I'm sorry, I'm not sure I cuaght your name.  
  
Willow: Willow- like the tree, and my girlfriend over there is Drusilla..  
  
Wesley: Ah.  
  
Xander and Harmony wander over, arms round each other, looking to join in.  
  
Xander: Hey, Willow, special girl, how's it going?  
  
Willow: It's good. I'm good. Dru's enjoying herself.  
  
Harmony: She looks like she's winding Spike up.  
  
Xander: Yeah, she does. Oh, poor Spike.  
  
Willow: Perhaps I'd better go and distract her.  
  
Xander: Perhaps you'd better not. Giles or no, soul or no, I don't like Spike.  
  
Harmony: Don't be nasty about my blondie-bear!  
  
Xander: You were nasty about Anya. I don't see why I shouldn't be about Spike.  
  
Willow: Don't quarrel at my party. I'll go over and sort her out.  
  
Willow leaves.  
  
Harmony: So you're Dawn?  
  
Dawn: Guilty as charged.  
  
Harmony: Liking having a boyfriend?  
  
Dawn: Yeah. It's fun.  
  
Harmony: He looks nice enough- not handsome like Xander, but okay.  
  
Wesley: I'm glad you approve of me.  
  
Xander: Willow asked us not to quarrel, Harm. Do you want another dance?  
  
Harmony: No. I want to talk to Dawn.  
  
Xander: Well, I'm going to dance. On my own, or with whoever will join me- Dawn? Wesley?  
  
Wesley looks slightly shocked at the idea of dancing with a man, but Dawn takes Xander at his word.  
  
Dawn: I'll dance! You coming, Wes?  
  
Wesley: Err, no, I'll just watch for a while, thanks. Maybe later.  
  
Xander: Wise choice. Wait 'til she's tired out a bit- Dawn can dance all night, if she's a mind to.  
  
Wesley: I'm sure she can.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Willow appraoches the group in the opposite corner, comprising Spike, Drusilla, and Giles.  
  
Willow: Hi guys! Dru, love.  
  
Spike: Hi Willow. Look, Dru, can you just leave off for a while?  
  
Willow: Yes, Dru, come and dance with me.  
  
Drusilla: No. I want to talk to my Spike.  
  
Willow: Thing is, I think Spike doesn't want to talk to you, pet.  
  
Spike: It's okay. Rupert, Willow, leave me and Dru alone for a moment.  
  
Giles heastiates, but Willow pulls him away.  
  
Willow: It's only for a moment. If you get him out of here again, I'll try and remove her.  
  
Giles: Sounds like a plan.  
  
They step back up to the couple, just in time to hear:  
  
Drusilla: .I wanted you to stay there, wait for me.  
  
Spike: Well I didn't. I have an unlife of my own to lead, and you've just got to accept that.  
  
Drusilla: I only wanted you to come back. I didn't say you couldn't find your pleasures.  
  
Spike: I don't want to come back, Dru. You left, that's it.  
  
Drusilla: Daddy came back.  
  
Giles moves round Drusilla and takes Spike's hand. Willow stands by Dru, rubbing her hand over her lover's shoulders.  
  
Willow: Time to leave Spike alone, now.  
  
Drusilla: I want to be family again. The dolly said we should be a family.  
  
Spike: Fuck you and your bloody dolls, Dru! I've had enough of this being compared to Angelus nonsense. I ain't your daddy and neither of us is coming back to you!  
  
He turns away from the group and storms out, running up the stairs.  
  
Giles: If you'll excuse me, Drusilla, I think I ought to go and calm your ex down a little.  
  
Giles leave, following Spike up the stairs.  
  
Drusilla: Nasty man! Horrid! Makes chips and takes Spike. Hurts my Spike and me!  
  
Willow: It wasn't Giles who put the chip in your head, and you've got me now. Hush, Dru, hush.  
  
She cradles Dru into her shoulder, and rocks her gently.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Dawn: Hi Anya. Can we join you?  
  
Anya: Sure. Lorne, move along a bit, make room for two little ones.  
  
Lorne: You're Dawn, Buffy's sister, aren't you? Dawn: And you're Lorne. Dawn and Lorne- we rhyme, you know!  
  
Lorne: Why, so we do, sweetie-pie.  
  
Dawn: How's the shop these days, Anya?  
  
Anya: Lots of people are coming and giving money to me still. I think now that they know where we are, they are more inclinded to give us money regulaly.  
  
Wesley: You aren't part Ferrengi, are you?  
  
Anya: No, I'm a vengange demon. I'm thinking maybe I could charge for curses, bring a bit more money in.  
  
Lorne: I'm not sure D'Hoffram would approve.  
  
Wesley: D'Hoffram?  
  
Lorne: Anyanka's boss.  
  
Anya: He's in charge of lots of demons. We're all like sisters, and do lots of curses.  
  
Wesley: Ah. I see.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As the clock's hands creep round towards tomorrow, Giles calms Spike down enough that they can join in the game of Scrabble the others have set up. Drusilla has fallen asleep in an upstairs room, and Dawn and Wesley went to bed-seperate beds- some hours ago.  
  
Lorne and Anya dance sopradically for a while, but eventually they settle into the end of the sofa to watch the game progress.  
  
Teams took some time to organise, as they do when one is so drunk that people are mostly more than one person, but they were sorted in the end.  
  
Willow works alone, against Xander and Harmony, the non-collage team, Giles and Spike, the English team, and Buffy and Clem, the Slayer team.  
  
Willow picks six more letters out of the bag, having just made a seven letter word which xander feels sure can't be real, but is too drunk to get the dictionary and check.  
  
Willow: Your go, English-types.  
  
Spike: So what words can we make, Watcher?  
  
Giles: I'm not sure there are many. There's only the 'U' available on the borad, and we haven't got any vowels.  
  
Anya: What have you got?  
  
Spike: Giles to cuddle.  
  
Giles: K, J, L, B, X, Y and P.  
  
Anya: I can see the problem.  
  
Giles: No you can't. Our rack has its back to you.  
  
Anya: I know what the problem is, then. I was trying to use more matephors.  
  
Giles: Well, it needs more practice.  
  
Buffy: When did you too get married? Won't Lorne and Spike be a bit upset?  
  
Lorne: I would be. You, Spike?  
  
Spike: Very.  
  
Xander: Let's just play Scrabble. Are you two going to move or dump your letters?  
  
Spike: Buy.  
  
Giles: What? This isn't monoploy, you know.  
  
Spike: I know. Put the B and the Y each side of the U, and let the losers over there take a turn.  
  
Xander: At last, the insults.  
  
Spike: I haven't insulted you all evening.  
  
Willow: And you're not going to start now. Hear this? Determined voice. Got it?  
  
Xander: What letters do we have, Harmony?  
  
Harmony: Um. G, U, T, T, E, R, S.  
  
Anya: Ha! Good word for you.  
  
Harmony: What do you mean? That isn't a word.  
  
Spike sniggers.  
  
Harmony: What are you laughing at, blondie-bear?  
  
Spike: Not your blondie-bear anymore, gutter-snipe. Can't you even read?  
  
Harmony: I can read.  
  
Anya: So can I, but that didn't make Xander stay with me.  
  
Xander: No, that was more to do with the vengagance thing.  
  
Lorne: Look, children, let's not argue. Willow says no fighting, and I heartily agree.  
  
Harmony: Well, I don't. I want this out with Anya.  
  
Anya: Don't be a stupid bitch. I could take you any day of the week.  
  
Harmony: Bet you couldn't, fu.  
  
Willow: Stop it, okay? Just stop it, or leave.  
  
Anya: How dare you, mortal, invole yourself with the fights of demons?  
  
Willow: because you're my friend, Anya, and this is my party, in my friend's house.  
  
Anya: Oh yeah, your friend the Slayer. Who just happens to be alseep.  
  
Clem: I'm sure she can be woken, if we have to.  
  
Xander: I'll just put out tiles down, shall I?  
  
Lorne: Good idea.  
  
Harmony (grudingly): Yeah, okay.  
  
Lorne: Smart move.  
  
Willow: Very good.  
  
Xander: I pride myself on having learned something from years spent in the company of bookish types.  
  
Lorne: It's hard not to let something rub off.  
  
Willow: But only it a metaphorical way. Right, Xander?  
  
Xander: Yeah. Metaphors only.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A montage of shots to finish the story: people drinking, copllasing into bed, onto floors and couches. 


	20. Waking Up

Title: The Coming Out Party, Part Three: Waking Up  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: Following a very revealing Scooby-bash, various pairs wake up in uncomfortable places.  
  
Rating: PG-13 (nothing worse than the show)  
  
Pairing: (s!) Buffy/Clem, Willow/Drusilla, Giles/Spike, Xander/Harmony, Dawn/other, Lorne/Anya.  
  
Spoilers: None (I think)  
  
Warnings: Silliness, hangovers.  
  
Author Notes: Probably helps to read the first two parts (and the mini series that precedes them) before you get to this section.  
  
Story Notes: Once again, in screenplay format, to avoid having to put in long descriptions. I can't help it if only my writing-ears and not my writing-eyes are working.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is God, the Grr Argh monster could kick my ass (also my plastic donkey).  
  
The Summers House, 7:00am.  
  
The kitchen  
  
Anya: .lots of coins.  
  
Lorne: Anya! Anya- you're dreaming.  
  
Anya: Oh. Awake now.  
  
Lorne: Good morning.  
  
Anya: No. Bad morning. Sunshine. Very bad.  
  
Lorne: You're not a vampire, what's so bad about sunshine?  
  
Anya (covering her eyes): Bright. Bad.  
  
Lorne: Hangover, petal?  
  
Anya: Yes. Could be.  
  
Lorne: Let me make my hangover cure. You'll be bright as a button with in ten minutes of drinking it.  
  
Anya: Is it disgusting?  
  
Lorne: Well. Not if you're a Jarak demon.  
  
Anya: They don't have any tastebuds.  
  
Lorne: True.  
  
Anya: You sure it cures hangovers?  
  
Lorne: Yes.  
  
Anya: Then what are you still lying on the floor for, idiot? Make me some.  
  
Lorne: If you say so, Anya-baby.  
  
Willow's bedroom  
  
Wesley: Huh? A girl's room? Where is Dawn, anyway?  
  
Dawn's bedroom  
  
Dawn: So I did make it upstairs. That has to be good. I wonder where Wesley ended up?  
  
The bathroom  
  
Giles (his eyes still closed): Spike? Why do I feel like I've got two taps digging into my back?  
  
Spike: Because we slept in the bathtub.  
  
Giles: Ah. That would explain it.  
  
He opens his green eyes and looks into Spike's blue ones.  
  
Giles: Spike, why are you lying on top of me?  
  
Spike: It's much more comfortable than the taps.  
  
Giles: Revenge for those days you spent chained up?  
  
Spike: Something like that.  
  
Giles: Would you care to get off me?  
  
Spike: I'd rather get you off. but if you insist.  
  
He moves back to the other end, allowing Giles to sit up.  
  
Spike: We've got all day, Rupert. Want to.?  
  
Giles: Not just now. Maybe later, William, when I've recovered a little.  
  
Spike: And when will that be?  
  
Giles: Ask me again sometime next year.  
  
Spike: You don't wanna, you know.  
  
Giles: No I don't. Please leave me and my headache alone.  
  
Spike: All right, all right. I'm going.  
  
The living room  
  
Drusilla: Pretty one is waking up now. Did she like her party?  
  
Willow: Uh? Oh, morning Dru.  
  
Drusilla: It's all a mess.  
  
Willow: I'm sure we can clear up later.  
  
Drusilla: I drew the curtains when the sun started to come up.  
  
Willow: Good. Well done.  
  
Drusilla: The dolly says you might like to cuddle me now.  
  
Willow: Oh? Uh, guess so.  
  
Drusilla: Umm. Pretty hands, nice cuddle.  
  
The hallway  
  
Harmony: Xander, wake up.  
  
Xander: Not a good plan.  
  
Harmony: How do you know?  
  
Xander: I just tried it.  
  
Harmony: That would be one way of telling. I want you to kiss me.  
  
Xander: Worse than Anya.  
  
Harmony: Shut up! Stop comparing me!  
  
Xander: .but still more romantic than Faith.  
  
Harmony: If you want a thing doing.  
  
Harmony captures his mouth in a kiss, the only sure-fire way to shut Xander 'Babbling' Harris up.  
  
Buffy's bedroom  
  
Clem: Morning, Buffy. Cup of something warm and wet?  
  
Buffy: Clem, you are a saint.  
  
Clem: Well.  
  
Buffy: Saintly demon. Coffee, please.  
  
Clem: Some party, huh?  
  
Buffy: I don't remember that much.  
  
Clem: You fell asleep fairly early on. I had to half carry you upstairs.  
  
Buffy: I had a long day yesterday.  
  
Clem: No need to do much today, though.  
  
Buffy: Good. But I have in mind some things I'd like to do- since I didn't drink enough to get a hangover.  
  
Clem: I like the way you're.thinking. 


	21. Demon Speak

Title: Demon Speak (Epilogue to The Coming Out Party)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: Left alone in the house, the daylight-fearing members of the party have a confrontation and a conversation.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: (all implied) Giles/Spike, Spike/Drusilla.  
  
Spoilers: Only for my other fics  
  
Warnings: None  
  
Author Notes: This will not make sense if you haven't read The Coming Out Party in full.  
  
Story Notes: I'm aware that this is only a snippet. It used to be much longer, but most of it was unreadable dross. This is the all-new slim line version.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss is the man, etc, I don't even get chocolate money.  
  
Spike stretches his supernatural senses, from their current home in the bathtub, to detect the whereabouts of his companions. All the humans seem to have left: Rupert went over an hour ago, saying something about seeing how the Magic Box was doing, so the house should be nearly empty. He seems to be in luck.  
  
In Buffy's bedroom, Clem sleeps, blissfully unaware of the other occupants of the house. Boringly, he will remain this way for many hours yet. William dismisses him and moves on.  
  
In Willow's bedroom, Lorne and Harmony discuss colour combinations and pop tunes.  
  
"I liked Atomic Kitten, 'The Tide is High'," his ex is saying.  
  
"No, no, much too much beat. I prefer Queen to Atomic Kitten. I'll sing Queen any day."  
  
"Poof."  
  
"Then why am I going out with Anya?"  
  
"I don't know. You tell me." William heaves a sigh, and tunes them out. The Ramones were the best band ever, anyway.  
  
Downstairs seems to be clear, so he pulls himself up and out the door, checking that the quarreles don't hear or see him as he moves towards the kitchen.  
  
At the bottom of the stairs, he glances left and right, noticing Drusilla apparently deep in sleep on the sofa. Anxious to avoid another upsetting conversation with her, he slips into the kitchen, hungry for blood- or at least a drink of something.  
  
"Why don't you speak to me, my Spike?" she hisses in his ear, as he puts a blood bag into the microwave.  
  
He slams the door shut and pokes the button with an angry finger.  
  
"Because I don't have anything to say."  
  
"You're all upset, William- all the baby fish have tears in their eyes."  
  
"Know what, Dru? I can't deal with your bloody baby fish. Just leave me alone, can't you?"  
  
"My William, don't be nasty. I don't like it when you snap at me."  
  
"Sorry, Dru- hell, no, I'm not. You left me. Shut up."  
  
"You left me in your heart. All ashes then. Now you're sparkly, and hurting like the Daddy-beast."  
  
"I'm not like Angel!"  
  
"Don't hate me, William. It hurts me."  
  
He pauses.  
  
"It hurts me too," he finally admits. "I love Rupert, but- you and Angelus, you were my everything." ["'My north, my south, my east and west.' Auden." a little voice in his brain that remembers poetry says.]  
  
"Can we be friends, then? Like the other one." A step forward and she's in his arms once more, a vision overtaking her.  
  
"Of course we can, pet. Friends it is." 


	22. Watching the watcher 1

Title: Watching the Watcher (1/2)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (with much Rupert/William)  
  
Timing: Post season seven or later (ie about 2004), crossing over with possiblities for Joss' BBC series, which may or may not be called 'Ripper' or 'The Watcher'.  
  
Follows on from my fics "In Sickness and In Health" and "For Better, For Worse" but will stand alone (I hope).  
  
Summary: The boys (okay, the man and his favourite souled vampire) have moved to Britian, to 'deal with some ghosts' both physical and metaphorical.  
  
Warnings: swearing (in Latin, Chinese and English, and possibly some others).  
  
Feedback: thristed for like wet things in a very dry place. spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss owns them, if they already exist, and will own the ones he hasn't got around to making yet. No characters were harmed during the writing of this fanfic, and I did as I promised: they weren't sold into slavery (even when they were very annoying), toutured (even for artistic purposes) or forced to wear Xander's clothing (even to make more intresting visual images).  
  
*Comments are in an endnote, but it ought to be said here that the research is mainly duplicateable. Where would a fic writer be without the web?  
  
William's POV, probably throughout.  
  
Rupert's flat, Bath, Wednesady 20th July 200?.  
  
Well, at least he's reading again, even if he doesn't stop to go to bed. The first week we were here, there was so much unpacking and organising that he didn't get to any work. It's good to see him back in his old patterns- even if that does mean he keeps expecting me to help. I might complain, but it's mostly for effect.  
  
"William, do you happen to know what 'amadain' means? I think it's Gaelic."  
  
"Yes, I know. It means 'idiot'- Angelus applied it to me on occasion." I pause, and then add, "I can't believe I just admitted that."  
  
He laughs, gently, and that's good to see too. He doesn't smile as often as he used to. "Well, that could explain Angelus' choice of word."  
  
I chose not to reply to that- I have a right to remain silent- and just watch his face as he settles back into silence. He is at his most handsome when he's concentrating hard, reading or spell casting. His eyebrows draw down and in a little, his green eyes are shaded but I can still see their colour, cool and enticing like a woodland clearing. He's lost some weight since we arrived, and the soft light from the desk lamp in front of him shows his cheekbones, so that they stand out as clearly as I remember mine did- I guess they still do. My Rupert. It took a long time for him to be convinced that he should bring me with him. I suppose he felt that his mission here was private, and some part so it are. There are demons both inside and out, and he has both to deal with.  
  
I won't try and intrude on his private fights, but when he has nightmares I wake him, and when he goes to meet the people who gave him these demons- his parents, the Council, I guess- I will go with him. There's not much I can do beyond moral support, but that I can do. It's one of the few things one really can do with a soul, and not without, being on the moral high ground. I take a certain satisfaction from that.  
  
The other thing I can do is help him deal with the day to day jobs that come up. England must be very short of wizards these days, or Giles in high demand. Barely a day goes by when we aren't 'invited' to a spell casting, an extorsion, the scene of a crime or an occult related mystery. His instinct is to help wherever he can, until he wears himself out and can't go on.  
  
I've taken it as my job to make sure that he stops before he makes himself sick, doesn't get deppressed when there is a problem he can't solve, and- of course- to help by doing research and reading, taking telephone calls and notes, answering letters and e-mails (not his e-mails, true, that won't happen until the moon turns blue and gets eaten by a mutant star-goat, but I answer the ones from Red, keep Sunnydale up-to-date).  
  
My respect for Cordelia, and her work as secteratry to my Sire, grows daily. I hardly know her, but I'm coming to see that she has a tougher time than you'd think possible.  
  
His frown has been getting steadily deeper over the past minute or so, and now he swears. "Pudor tu!" Latin, huh? I guess that's what he's been reading in. "Tu es stultior quam asinus!"  
  
"Found something you don't like, pet?" I ask, mildly. No need to avoid being annoying- he's annoyed already.  
  
"Orcae Ita!" he replies, before realising that he is still speaking Latin and switching to English. "I don't like this at all. The author of this book must have been."  
  
"As frightful as an engine developed solely for the countenance of sexual inuendo by country music?" I suggest. That gets his attention off the offending book, anyway.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I got it off the surrelist compliment generator." I shrug. "It seemed a good compliment at the time, but it does equally well as an insult."  
  
"The joys of surrealism," he says, dryly, but my vampiric hearing catches the added, "I knew buying you a laptop 'so you could keep in touch with Willow' was a bad idea."  
  
"You don't regret it when I can help you with the research, though," I grin. "What are you after today? Should I plug it in again?"  
  
"I don't think the net will be able to help with this. I've been given a description of a ghost of sorts, and I'm having trouble deciding what it could be- hence the Latin and Gaelic books on ghost types."  
  
I pick the lartop up and plug it in. "You could use some other sightings, really. Where is it?"  
  
"In the center of Bath, I think. The Grosvenor Hotel."  
  
"Well, let's try MultiMap first, get a fix on that."  
  
He moves over to sit beside me on the settee, pulling on a jumper on the way. "I like watching you do research," he murmers. "It's nice to watch someone else work, and you look so handsome when you concentrate."  
  
The echo of what I was thinking only minutes ago is eerie, but I ignore it and run a 'nearest hotel' search. Lots of places come up, but not the Grovesnor, and the simple map of Bath plainly isn't going to help.  
  
"Try Yahoo," I say, mostly to myself- it's what Willow taught me. She always used Yahoo as her first choice of search engine, with AskJeeves a close second. Don't ask me why, I only asked her how to put them on my favourites list.  
  
"No luck there, either- a Grosvenor Hotel in Bath Road, Bournemouth, looks good but is clearly not what we're after."  
  
Ten minutes later, Rupert is still watching me avidly- I suppose Watchers are given special training in it- and I'm ready to concede defeat. "The only reference I can find is in 'This Spectred Isle', which mentions the hotel and a 'misty shape that leaves a feeling of cold'. Does that sound hopeful?"  
  
"Yes- where are they taking the information from?"  
  
"The Good Ghost Guide, page 11." I tell him. "I put it into Yahoo- it's a book, John Brooks, 1994. Want the ISBN?"  
  
"No, thank you. I'd know if I had a copy, and I doubt it says more than your web page, somehow."  
  
"Amazon can't sell it to you, either, so I guess it's out of print. We might just have to go into Bath and see what we can find out there- or talk to your friend again."  
  
He shivers, and I put the computer onto the floor and pull him closer to me. "But we don't have to do either tonight- or should I say this morning. Want to go to bed, luv?"  
  
He ignores the second part, and carries on with his train of thought, "We can't really talk to my informant, because she's in hospital, in a coma. The thing she saw- it scared her so much she fell and hit her head. She woke up long enough to tell her husband what happened, and then she."  
  
So that's why he's so anxious to help. He doesn't want this thing to hurt anyone else, and quite right too. However, this extra dimension to the story- and I'll leave why he didn't tell me this before for those dark hours of the night when I'm awake and he's not- makes it sound more like a demon than a ghost.  
  
"Are you sure you're after a ghost, Rupert? They don't normally hurt people."  
  
"You're suggesting it could be some kind of demon? I don't think so." He gets up, and must see puzzelment on my face, because he explains why. "I'm just going to get some extra layers. Your room temprature vampire body might be able to go from America to britian without having to radapt, but my human self still has to get aclimatized to very cold weather, such as England."  
  
That makes me smile, and I get a smile in return before he disappers into the bedroom. While he is gone, I take the opperunity to contiune my research. Occultopedia tells me that cold is common with hauntings, but I knew that anyway, and I can't find any references to people being hurt by ghosts. Warned, yes, but not hurt. Either Rupert's informant was very unlucky, or there's something else going on here- and why can't I hear him moving any more?  
  
I turn the laptop off and call out, "I can't find anything else there, Rupert." When I don't get a reply, I call again, "Rupert? Rupert? Pet?" and begin to move towards the door. Something is wrong here, I can sense it. It's not quite another prescence, the way I feel Buffy or Drusilla, or even the dim sense I have of Angel, but there is something there. Rounding the door, the feeling of unease becomes rapidly stronger, and I almost sprint the last few steps. Rupert is lying on his side, his thick woolen gurnsey half on, his eyes closed and his face pale.  
  
"Rupert! What happened?" I kneel by him, visually checking pulse and breathing, uncertain to touch him without being sure of what I'm doing. These days, I am almost over-aware of my extra strength, and I don't want to make any injuries worse. "Rupert?" His eyelids flicker open as he stirs a little, breathing steadying. "Hush," I say, and cradle him in my arms, unable to bear it anymore. "Hush, you're safe now. Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"The ghost," he whispers. "It was the ghost, just like Diane saw. Misty and white." I feel him tense his muscles, trying to sit up or stand, but I'm not having that.  
  
"Stay still, love," I say. He needs looking after far more than the kids in Sunnyhell- I don't know why we had so many arguments about whether I should come with him. I lift him up onto the bed, gald it isn't very far, and pull his gurnsey off his arms. Shoes off, blankets up and over him, and then I crawl, as fully dressed as he is, in beside him.  
  
"You want anything?" I ask, "Hot water bottle, cocoa, tea, music, laptop, book?" No response, so I try again- I know he isn't really asleep, because his breathing is too fast. "Cuddle, sexy vampire, kiss, teddy bear, good shag?" There. A faint smile. Normally I'd describe it as 'the ghost of a smile' but that seems to be nearly as ill-timed as one of Harris' jokes.  
  
"I'll settle for a cuddle-and-talk." He still sounds scared, and cold, but when he opens one eye to look up at me, I know he'll live. Not that I'd been very much in doubt, but I had thought that this could be very nasty.  
  
"Okay- whatja wanna talk about?"  
  
"Must you use those riduculous pieces of slang? 'whatja' is not a word."  
  
"Sorry." He must be stronger than I give him credit for- the bugger regains his sense of humour with alarming speed. "Which topic didst thou desirest discussion our of?" There are times I'm glad I learned Shakespeare at school.  
  
I get the smile I was playing for, but apperently he decides not to go along with my game. "We have to find out more about this ghost- or whatever it is- and quickly. If it hurt Diane, and it can hurt me in my own home, who knows who it might go for next?"  
  
"Yes. Do we know what Diane was doing- I mean, was she looking for the ghost? We were researching when it came."  
  
"She's a ghost hunter, but I don't think that's why she was there. Her husband, Kevin, told me they came down to stay for the week and found the hotel by chance."  
  
"That's the Grosvenor, right? The one that wasn't listed on MultiMap?"  
  
"As far as I know."  
  
"Look, Rupert. I don't think there's anything more you can do tonight. It's got very late- it's nearly four in the morning- and you need to sleep."  
  
That gets more reaction than it was intended to. Rupert pushes himself up onto his elbows, and makes like he wants to get up.  
  
"Woah, pet," I say, sliding my arm arcoss him and pushing down- not to hard, but enough to hold him. I may be more aware of my strenght now, but that doesn't always stop me using it. "Sleep now."  
  
"What if- it- comes back? It might attack again, and if we're both asleep."  
  
"Rupert, calm down. I said it was time for you to get some sleep. I'll stay awake- and, when it came, I sensed it. I didn't know what it was, but I felt it, and I'll know it if I feel it again."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes. Nothing can hurt you now- I won't let it. Once you're asleep, I'll cast that protection spell you taught me. That covers the dead and the sleeping, so if you're asleep it should protect both of us."  
  
"Thank you, William."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
He relaxes, and shuts his eyes. There is still some tension visible in his face, but that drains away as he is claimed by Morpheus. Yes, I did Greek mythology as well as Shakespeare, you know. Hang on a minute- is it Morpheus I mean? He was God of Dreams, but it was his father, Hypnos, who was God of Sleep. Funny how you remember these things at the strangest times.  
  
I chant the words of the spell softly, "Protegg traversina, dio sogno: protegg quello di cui sonno dur per sempre. Rend thier sogno giusto e thier wonderings cassaforte, Oh dio sogno. Protegg traversina, io implorare voi. Questo cerchio essere ora protegg non lasci esso romp!" The Italian syallables feel round and smooth in my mouth, and make me think of other passages of poetry I know.  
  
What was it Keats wrote about Morpheus? I may as well pass the time trying to remember- it's going to be a long time before he wakes up, and I'm not leaving his side to find something else to do. Something like, 'Perhaps, thought I, Morpheus/ In passing here, his owlet pinions shook;/ Or, it may be, ere matron Night uptook/ Her ebon urn, young Mercury, by stealth,/ Had dipp'd his rod in it: such garland wealth/ Came not by common growth. Thus on I thought,/ Until my head was dizzy and distraught.' From Endymion, I thing. 'Dizzy and distraught' sums up how I feel about this ghost thing well enough. Dizzy, and distraught, and angry. I don't know what it is, and I'm not sure I care. It hurt Rupert, and that puts it in my bad books stright away.  
  
I feel more like Mercutio, teasing and (obviously gay) bright, but with an undercurrent of anger. Or prehaps Tybalt, "What, drawn and talk of peace! I hate the word, as I hate hell, all Montugues, and thee." Careful, William, you'll be quoting great long speechs next- what was it Mercutio said about sleep?  
  
Queen Mab, he said, when he teased Romeo: "O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you./ She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes/ In shape no bigger than an agate-stone," I think that's right- yes, "On the fore-finger of an alderman,/ Drawn with a team of little atomies/ Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep." I look over at the sleeping man beside me, and picture her, with, "wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,/ The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,/ The traces of the smallest spider's web,/ The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,/ Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,/  
  
"Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,/ Not so big as a round little worm/ Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;/ Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut/ Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,/ Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers./ And in this state she gallops night by night/ Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;/ O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,/ O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees," it's nice to think that laywers were bad even back then.  
  
I hear my Sire's been having laywer trouble in LA, and part of me still wants to cheer them on. "O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream," what? like me, dreaming of Rupert's lips on mine, his arms around me and- bad William! You're no better than one of those hormone driven teenagers you look down on. Go back to the Bard, "Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,/ Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:" That's enough to stop you having that kind of dream for a while, or at least to stop you welcoming them.  
  
"Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,/ And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;/ And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail/ Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,/ Then dreams," how does it go? um.., "he of another benefice:/ Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,/ And then dreams he of biting foreign throats," biting? I think it was cutting in the original. Still, I prefer biting, when I can't think, "Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,/ Of healths five-fathom deep;" I could use one of those. I wonder if Rupert's dilberatly avoiding alcohol? In America, he drinks, not a lot, but he does- but over here, he can go for weeks without touching a drop.  
  
"And then anon/ Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,/ And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two/ And sleeps again." Perhaps that's why- when he doesn't drink, the nightmares are less frequent. hard to say which order they come in- America, alcohol, dreams, I think, but who knows. Take away America and alcohol, and he still dreams sometimes. "This is that very Mab/ That plats the manes of horses in the night,/ And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,/ Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:/ This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,/ That presses them and learns them first to bear,/ Making them women of good carriage:" I wonder that they let us study Shakespeare in school. There's sex, and violence, and who knows what else. Maybe it's that we were all boys- I'm sure the girls weren't- wait a minute, what's this?  
  
Outside the protective bubble of the spell, a grey mist has formed. The spell crackles with green sparks here and there, but it holds. Slowly, the mist swirls and forms shapes: a large head with bulging eyes, then another, and another, until they are all around us. I sense their prescences as sepearte beings- these things are alive, although they are not human, but demon. One of them pokes as long finger at the spell, and when it sends a shock out, he pulls back quickly, surprised.  
  
After that, they don't try to touch anymore, just stare at us, faces blank. I daren't speak or move, for fear of waking Rupert and breaking the spell, so I simply stare back, trying to take in any and all information available that might enable us to identify these things correctly. Ten or fifteen minutes later, their numbers have thinned considerably, and soon they leave altogether.  
  
I settle back to watching Rupert sleep, waiting for the time when he wakes and we can go back to work. Lucky vampires don't need sleep every night, isn't it?  
  
  
  
* This is based on what spoilers I can get for the BBC series (especially from http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~pardos/RipperNews.html, up to when I wrote this, late August 2002), combined with my own ideas about British ghosts, Bath, Rupert's mission and much too much time spent browsing the web for sites on fanfic, the occult, ghosts, and obscure languages. Thanks are due to the web site mentioned above, and these esteemed purveyors of facts and fictions: http://www.occultopedia.com/index1.htm, http://www.deliriumsrealm.com/delirium/mythology/demons.asp, http://www.at.artslink.co.za/%7Egerry/irisha_m.htm, http://www.insults.net/html/swear/index.html, http://www.madsci.org/cgi- bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG, http://babel.altavista.com/tr, http://www.bibliomania.com/0/2/244/1103/16222/1/frameset.html, and http://lyrics.rockmagic.net/lyrics/ramones/. I also consulted regular Buffyverse sources: Pysche Buffy Transcripts (http://studiesinwords.de/ ), BuffyWorld.com (http://www.buffyworld.com/), the Buffy Database (http://bdatabase.cjb.net/), Sonja Marie's Buffy the Vampire Slayer Links (http://www.bitterwisdom.com/btvsurls/search/search.cgi (and many of the linkls contained therein)) and Who Watches the Watchers for both the title and visual inspiration (especially this page: http://www.geocities.com/thepotters_uk/watchers_frame.html), not to mention the various search engines and standard sites which William visits. You can duplicate my research and his, if you like, and improve on it if you can get to Bath. 


	23. Watching the watcher 2

Title: Watching the Watcher (2/2)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: Giles is back in England, with Spike, and they have a mystery to slove.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike (well, Rupert/William, really)  
  
Spoilers: None.  
  
Warnings: None  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Story Notes: The languages they speak are based on what they say in the shows. If you can find a plot hole, let me know.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, the BBC series would be happening a lot faster.  
  
Thursday, 21st July  
  
He woke at ten this morning, and I made him breakfast. I insisted he eat before I told him what happened, because I was afraid that if I didn't he would plunge stright into research without, and watching him now I'm glad I did. There are books everywhere- books on UFOs, books on alien abductions, books on demons, books on spells, even one -by a guy named Andrew Collins- that's called 'The Circlemakers' and looks like it's about crop circles and/or Stonehenge.  
  
The laptop beeps at me again, and I go back to the research I was doing, searching for anything that might shed light on what is happening here. I haven't told him this yet, but the folks in Sunnydale are probably working on the problem, too- I sent Willow an e-mail with all the relevent information and a request for help. She seemed willing do help, particually with the parts that can be done on-line.  
  
Come on, Google! You aren't normally this slow to give me anything!  
  
"Himmeldonnerwetter!"  
  
"Ist die Swearsprache vom Tag, dann deutsch?" I know my grammar isn't perfect, but from the look he gives me I guess he can't tell. "Is German the swear language of the day?" I translate, and he smiles.  
  
"Something of the sort."  
  
The lap top beeps to tell me that my server has timed out during my request, so I join him in the swearing and tell it to dial up the connection again.  
  
"Don't you speak German, then?"  
  
"No- I only did French at school, and then when I went to university I took Ancient Languages- Latin, Greek, Sumerian, and bits of demon languages."  
  
"So you speak, what, five languages?"  
  
"Four fluently, and I can read a fifth. Why- how many do you speak?"  
  
"Six human, two demon- English, French, German, Italian, Latin, Gaelic, Tarian, and of course Fyarl."  
  
"Of course. Not Chinese, then? You killed a Slayer in China."  
  
"No- I never mastered languages that weren't basically Eurpoean, barring the occassional word, like...."  
  
Beep. "Poq Gai!"  
  
"Chinese swear word, I take it?"  
  
"Yeah. Never found out what it meant, but it's statisfiying to say."  
  
"Like my German one, huh?"  
  
"Something like that." I shut the laptop- this research isn't going anywhere. "Look, it's elevn o'clock and neither of us are getting anywhere with books and the net. Let's have a break, make some tea, and think about what we do next."  
  
"If you like- well, if you're voulentering to make the tea."  
  
"Anything for you, love," I tell him- sappy-sweet doesn't suit me, so I get laughed at, but that's good enough for me. "I always wanted to be an actor, and I guess this is the closest I'm going to get.and, dear lord, I just said that aloud, didn't I?"  
  
"I thought you wanted to be a poet?"  
  
"A person can want more than one thing," I say, and add, "You were going to be a flying greengrocer," as I escape round the doorway into the kitchen.  
  
When the tea is made and my blood warmed up, we sit at the table in the kitchen, sipping our drinks of choice and chatting. "What you described sounded like a classic alien abduction, the first time I heard it, but there are some odd points."  
  
"Like the fact that alien abduction reports simply don't come in 'classic' flavour?"  
  
"Yes- they are all different, one of the main reasons for doubting their factual basis. We know this really happened, and it wasn't aliens- or at least, if it was, aliens are responsible for many of the things we put down to ghosts and demons- so we're looking for a demon or ghost with previously unknown powers and motives."  
  
"What do we actually know about genuine ghosts?"  
  
"They have certain patterns- they have a message, whether good or bad, for the living; they rearly if ever hurt or attack people; they are normally rooted to one place or thing."  
  
"Which suggests this isn't a ghost. It doesn't fit the patterns, so we're after a demon."  
  
"A demon without a corpreal form, which has many minds as part of itself, produces an intense cold, and doesn't want people to know about it."  
  
"How do you get to that?"  
  
"It attacked a ghost hunter and me, when I was researching it. Amadain."  
  
I force a grin, though I dislike the reminder of Angelus, and go on, "But it seemed to be scared of me- it waited until you were alone."  
  
"No, it didn't, or you wouldn't have seen it- it waited until I was in the bedroom. There must be something about that room, or about rooms where people sleep, that enables it to attack them."  
  
"So- a set of minds, which can become visable only by drawing the heat energy out of the surrounding space, and are secrative."  
  
"The ghosts of an ant-hill, killed when boiling water was poured on them?"  
  
"Amusing, but no, William. I think we must be looking for a demon with many minds- say, something that in its original form had several heads."  
  
"You think this isn't the way it was meant to be?"  
  
"No- I think it has been made this way by someone, or something."  
  
"A curse?"  
  
"That would do it."  
  
"Like the one Cordelia was saying, that the Wolfram and Hart kids did on Sahjhan, made him immaterial."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sahjhan's a demon. Gonna get killed by Angel's son."  
  
"I know that. 'What?' was about you talking to Cordelia."  
  
"E-mail. The wonders of modern technology, Rupert." I grin smugly. It's fun to be able to surprise him sometimes.  
  
"Anyway, yes, much like was done to Sahjhan, but not quite."  
  
"Well, we've got a few new avenues to explore, anyway. Demons with several minds, and curses. Which do you want?"  
  
He swallows the last of his tea, and replies. "Since the best book on curses I have is in Tarian, a languge you've just reavealed you read, I think I'd better take multi-minded demons. Don't you?"  
  
"I guess so. I didn't know you were going to use everything I said against me, though," I grumble, getting up from the table and going to rinse out my mug. Rupert doesn't have a problem with my bags of blood being around, but he objects to washing it up, for some reason. He returns to his reading, and soon I go back to the lap top, seeking more information on our new areas of study.  
  
About one, I wake with the imprint of a keyboard on my forehead. It takes me a good ten mintues to sort out the lap top, and it isn't until I've done so that I realise Rupert isn't here anymore. His coat isn't on the peg, his bag of spell ingridents isn't under the bookcase, and I can't find a note. He always leaves a note. I think they breed for note-leaving in Watchers, and he always does it- except today, apperently.  
  
The English weather is uncooperative as ever. Sunshine streams through the one window without heavy curtains on, denying me access to the far end of the kichen- and to the outside world. Dear Gods, what can I do? I'll have to find someone who can- calm down, William, you're panicing. Try phoning some of the places he might have gone. Now you know how he must have felt when you ran to Willow that day, though I doubt he's gone because of a dream.  
  
Where might he go? One of his friends in Bath, maybe. Who is there? The coven leader, that fat woman- um, Charlene. The one who sounds like she's trying to hide a cockney accent I'd have looked down on in life. I've got her phone number here.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hello, Charlene. It's William here."  
  
"Hi William. How are you?"  
  
"None to good, actually. Look, Rupert's gone out and not left a note, and I'm kind of panicing." Not giving quite the impression I'd like, but who cares?  
  
"Slow down. Didn't he say anything when he left?"  
  
"No- we were working, researching, and I fell asleep over the laptop, and when I woke up- there he wasn't."  
  
"Ah. Long night last night?"  
  
"For me, yes."  
  
"So what's the longest he can have been gone for?"  
  
"An hour, maybe an hour and a half." That calms me down- a little. It isn't really very long, but I still don't like the idea that he's out there alone.  
  
"What were you working on? Could he have gone to gather some extra information?"  
  
"I don't know. The thing is, what we're working on- it's dangerous. We got onto it because one woman was put in hospital, and last night it attacked Rupert here."  
  
"Oh- is this the thing that attacked Diane? Kevin told me about it, but there was nothing to see in the demon-finding ritual we did last night, so we concluded it must be a ghost."  
  
"And we decided it must be a demon, because attacking people and moving locations aren't 'ghost' habits."  
  
"I see- not demon or ghost, but something else, and potentionally looking for Rupert, who is now out there, alone?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you're panicing about this? I can see why."  
  
"We need to find him before something happens."  
  
"Okay. Let me speak to a couple of members of my coven, and we'll come over to cast a finding spell. We'll have to be where Rupert slept last night, and have an item of the clothing he wore yesterday, so if you could sort that out in the next half hour or so, we'll see you."  
  
"Good- I can do that. If anything changes, ring me back."  
  
"I will. I'll carry my mobile with me- you have the number, don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
".so we're all set to keep in touch. Okay, Will, see you soon!" She puts the phone down and I am alone again. It takes me all of two mintues to tidy the bedroom and pick up Rupert's clothes, not discarded until this morning and still lying in the laundry basket. Then I pace up and down, moving little things around, not doing anything useful and unable to settle down to anything. I think of the kids in Sunnydale, and wonder how I'll tell them if he's dead, how I'll cope. When Dru left me, I despaired, but there was still hope of seeing her again- if Rupert died, I really would kill myself.  
  
Where can he have gone? I imagine him, lying on the floor as he did last night, but now not breathing, cold and dead. I see images of him that can only have come from my nightmares, tied up, bleeding, dead, still eyes open and staring, frozen, pale, his side ripped open and his guts spilling out, images of my lovers and my victims distorted into one. They find me huddled in a corner, weeping, nearly driven mad by the images in my mind.  
  
He is my only stablity, the thing that keeps me from the darkness of fear and guilt, and without him I am nothing but the weepy, wimpy, pathetic little shit I was a human. I hate that part of myself, and normally that hate controls it, but when I am scared, when my world begins to fall to pieces, the only way I can hide from it is alcohol, and that doesn't always work.  
  
"Hush, William," Charlene says, holding me to herself, "Hush," and she sounds like an echo of the voices from my past- my mother, my princess, my friend the witch.  
  
The three women work very effiencently, making me wonder how often they have done this in the past. I don't see the spell they cast, because Charlene keeps in the sitting room, calming me and reassuring me while the other two perform it, but when they return from the bedroom their faces and voices are less axuios that when they arrived. He is in Bath, somewhere in a street called "Queen's Road" - and how many of them are there in Britian?- which they know. Apperently it's a bit of an abandoned area, old factories and such like that evil guys like. I should know, I used to like them too.  
  
Charlene the matriarch decides to go with Helen 'the clever one' to find Rupert, leaving me alone with Katrina. Katrina looks like a wimp, the youngest of the three and clearly the most junior. She is the kind of girl who is normally relgated to making tea, but I get the impression that the other two regard her more highly than that.  
  
My guess is that's she's a more powerful witch than she knows. Her first reaction to being left alone with a vampire is the mild fright that everyone gets, and then a teenage kind of excitement- she can't be much out of her teens- but that quickly evaporates into 'caring mode'.  
  
She gets a look on her face that I recognise from Willow and my sister, Joan, when Eliza wasn't around. 'Poor William face', I call it. Usually people wear it when they expect me to burst into tears at any moment, and mostly they're right, but I can often- as now- use the expression to push back my feelings and become Spike again. I hate being made to feel weak. Spike existed as part of William long before I met Drusilla, and although in my efforts to please Rupert, make him feel safe with me, I channel William and let the poet in me make most descions, there are still some that Spike must make. I don't like it, I'm not comfortable with being two people all the time, but what choice do I have, and I'm babbling. Leave that to the Sunnydale kids and listen to Katrina.  
  
"I don't expect it'll take them long. The spell never fails and Helen used to live in that part of town. They'll find him, don't you worry."  
  
She must be attempting to comfort me, but it sounds like she's worried herself. How can I calm her, when what I need is Rupert to calm me?  
  
"I'm sure they will, pet," I say, my voice rough, and imideatley I feel like an idiot.  
  
"Yes, they will," she replies. "Do you want a cup of tea or anything?"  
  
No, I want Rupert. "Tea would be nice, thanks." It's not lying, it's giving her something to do.  
  
"I'll go and put the kettle on, then."  
  
She bustles out of the room and I blink hard. The girl is so much like my sister, it's uncanny. The same expressions, the same tones of voice, the same simple British comforts- tea and scones, sandwichs on the lawn- Katrina could be Joan, almost down to the atom. The same mousy hair, a shade closer to true brown than mine, but still pale, coiled into a bun. The same grey-blue eyes, darker than mine, Father's eyes rather than Mother's. Those eyes are why Joan left home as soon as she could work as a governess- not because we really needed the money, Father left us well off, but because Mother couldn't bear to see those eyes every day.  
  
Then again, maybe I just see my sisters in every woman in my life who comforts or teases me. Seeing Eliza in Joyce, the two of them in Willow and Drusilla that day, and Joan in Katrina here- who is, by the way, just coming back, bearing cups of tea, neatly balanced on their saucers. I never saw them in Buffy, or Dru before she was chipped. I saw them in Darla, just the once, when she was left with the job of comforting me because Angelus had left and Drusilla couldn't cope.  
  
Jo.Katrina hands me a cup, and sits on the armchair opposite, the one piece of the three-piece suite we almost never use. We curl up on the settee to watch television or just to cuddle, and Rupert inhabits one of the armchairs when he's reading and I and the laptop are streched out, but we never use the other one. perhaps we should. When (if) he comes back, I must be sure to make him sit in that chair sometimes. It gives me a good view from here of her face, frowning- and William, you're staring. Don't, please, it's not polite to stare at the ladies. My mother's voice forces me to drop my eyes, and Katrina's echos, "Are you okay, William?"  
  
"I'm fine," I respond automatically, and then add, aware of what I said, "I'll kill myself if he doesn't come back."  
  
She nods, failing to understand how they are the same. What I mean is, I'm fine because I've decided. If he doesn't come back, I'll end this torment of waiting another way. I know what to do when I can't bear it any longer. Somehow, there are no words to say that, so I sip my tea and stare at the carpet, the blue carpet with swirls in that we picked out together.  
  
"I don't want to chose a carpet, Rupes," I said when he dragged me out to 'The Carpet Warehouse' or some such place. "Can't we just shag on the floorboards?"  
  
"No," he told me, and gripped me by the wrist to pull me along. He's only human and the grip wouldn't have held me foe long had I choosen to struggle, but something inside me, part William, part Spike, enjoys the feeling of submitting, being owned and ordered around just as Angelus did, just as my mother did, so I let him haul me round.  
  
"Do you like this on?" he asked, pointing at some grey-green monstroisty.  
  
"It's ugly," I tell him. He wouldn't let me have what I wanted- sex- so why should I cooperate?  
  
"On what do you base that?"  
  
"I ate a decorater once, something must have stuck," I answer, my stock reply for all comments on my choice of décor. The memory of saying it to Buffy comes back to me, and it shakes me out of the bad mood I've been in. No need to make him suffer more, there's enough to do already.  
  
When he asks, "And this one?" pointing at the blue-with-swirls, I say, "Yeah, that's okay. Do you like it?"  
  
"It's not bad. It goes with what we've already got."  
  
"If you're sure- we can keep looking."  
  
"No, let's buy this. It isn't expense, so we can change it later."  
  
"Okay."  
  
When we got home, I got the shag I'd been after for the past twenty fours hours, on our still almost new sette. I suppose I ought to be able to draw a moral about being helpful from that, but the phone is ringing and I can't.  
  
"Hello?" Katrina picks it up. I strain to catch both sides of the conversation, but only manage to hear her replies.  
  
"Good, good."  
  
"I see. Yes, of course."  
  
"So both, rather than not either."  
  
"Unusual, indeed."  
  
"I think that's for the best."  
  
"I'm sure we can look after him."  
  
"So we'll see you fairly soon, then."  
  
"Fifteen mintues. Right.  
  
"Yeah, will do."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Quarter of an hour later, Rupert is in my arms again. "It was the ghost of a demon," he explains, but I tell him 'hush' and lift him into the bed room. When the women try to come in, to help or whatever, I go into game face. It wasn't deliberate, and I changed out as fast as I could. It was just the idea that they might come in, take him away- something snapped inside me.  
  
His injuries will heal in a week or two, but the emotional effect will be much longer lasting. I love him dearly, but to go off and not leave a note- it's going to take something special to make up to me for reducing me to tears in front of Charlene the Busty Witch.  
  
And he knows that: or he will, when he wakes up. I'll tell him so. 


	24. Family Matters Letter

Title: Family Matters part 1: The Letter  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: In LA, a mysterious woman summons Fred and Gunn, saying she can help them find Angel. Meanwhile, in England.  
  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Fred/Gunn, others later.  
  
Spoilers: For the ends of Buffy season 6 and Angel season 3. Also contains some things gathered from spoilers on seasons 7 and 4 respectively.  
  
Warnings: Pre-slash, unusual Mary-Sue.  
  
Author Notes: This is Mary-Sue. I freely admit it. But it's not quite the normal kind.  
  
Story Notes: None.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss etc gets it, I get nothing, not even chocolate money.  
  
Dear Miss Winifred Burkle and Mr Charles Gunn,  
  
I have been informed that you are currently the mainstay of an organisation headed by a distant relative of mine, one 'Angel'. I believe I may be able to assist you in this, your time of crisis. Please allow my agent (the one who bears this letter) to accompany you to my present home, where we may talk freely. Yours sincerely,  
  
Alice Malone.  
  
"Excuse me," Gunn said to the blue-skinned demon who had brought the note, "I want to speak to my- friend, alone."  
  
"Of course, sir," the creature replied. "My mistress warned me that it may be so."  
  
"I think we should go." Fred folded her arms, having made her opinion clear as soon as the door shut behind them.  
  
"What if it's a trap?"  
  
"We get out again."  
  
"And supposing we can't?"  
  
"And supposing she really can help us, and we don't go?"  
  
"Why couldn't she come here?"  
  
Without noticing it, Gunn had raised his voice. The blue-skinned demon rapped on the door.  
  
"Yes, err."  
  
"Ranguger, sir. My mistress is unable to visit, due to her illness. Coming to Los Angelus was a great strain, and it has weakened her greatly."  
  
Fred looked at Gunn, and smiled. She knew when she'd won.  
  
"We'll come," Gunn told the demon, "but we're travelling in my truck, okay?"  
  
"If you wish. Is there room to stow my carpet in the back, sir?"  
  
"Carpet?!"  
  
"Flying carpet, sir. The transportation device by which I arrived."  
  
"How.." Fred began, but Gunn cut her off.  
  
"I'm sure we can make room. Let's go."  
  
Ranguger guided them to the centre of LA, to an up-market hotel, and into one of its most luxurious suites. No one took any notice of the fact that he was blue, and Gunn supposed that they all cultivated selective blindness.  
  
Once inside the suite, Ranuguer asked them to wait in the main area while he went and tended to his mistress.  
  
"I suppose they must." Gunn began, but tailed off as they realised they could hear the woman's voice.  
  
"Of course, rangy. No, I'll stay lying down, thank you. Put the lamp on, and show them in." The quavery voice was weak, but in had a timbre of command.  
  
A bald, blue head appeared round the door.  
  
"Please come in now, sir, lady."  
  
Fred took Gunn's hand as they entered the dim bedroom.  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you at last. Please forgive me for not shaking hands, but the arthritis is bothering me again."  
  
For a moment, the old woman's grey hair and wrinkled skin was highlighted by the clear white light from the next room, but then Rangy shut the door, and they where alone with her, lit only by the warm glow of the bed side lamp.  
  
"I trust that Rangy gave you a pleasant trip?"  
  
"Yes, thank you, m'am," Gunn responded, managing to remember his manners. He was still half-expecting a trap.  
  
"Alice, please, and have no fear, young man. It becomes you to protect your pretty young lady, but there is no danger here."  
  
"Who are you?" Fred asked.  
  
"That is a long story indeed, but maybe one you need to hear. You may find it advisable to seat yourselves."  
  
Fred pulled a chair up to the bedside, but Gunn remained standing.  
  
"Very well. Stand if you so desire," the woman said, and Gunn noted that her eyes were still closed. She lowered her voice as she went on, from the high one that could be heard in the next room, to a private one intended for only these four walls.  
  
"I usually see better this way. Among other things, I'm a telepath. However, what you came to hear is the story of my connection to Angelus.  
  
"Who am I, you ask. Well, my name is Alice Malone, and to you, I am a distant relative of your friend, Angel. The thing is, my physical body is half-demon, half-vampire. I have a soul and a conscience, and some awareness of the effects of my actions, but I don't always trouble to consult them. More years ago than I care to count, I -or perhaps it was a Childe of mine- turned a young man by the name of Heinriech. You may have heard of 'the Master', slain by Buffy Summers. He was my Childe.  
  
"In the many years between his turning and final death, he Sired lots of Childer, and one of those was Darla. I believe- no, I know, for I saw you in my visions- that you have met her.  
  
"Now, when I saw what a monster I have created in Heinriech, I tried to give him balance. I alterned the Order of Aurelius, into an order that would give vampires turned into it the ability to always choose which side they fought on, as best suited them. When Darla's Childe, Angelus, rejected the Order, that is what he was leaving, though he may not have understood it in those terms.  
  
"If my visions serve me rightly- and it's rare that they should fail- then you have a few small problems. One, you can't find Angel: two, you can't find Cordelia; and three; you're estranged from Wesley. I think I can help with some of those, and possibly with some other things, in return for a small favour."  
  
"I knew this was coming," Gunn comments, in his best jaded-world- weary-seen-it-all-before voice.  
  
"You don't know what it is yet, Mr. Charles Gunn, so refrain from leaping to hasty conclusions. As you see, I am living in hotels these days, of necessity, but I dislike it, and I would like to feel that my family, my Childer, had a home they could go to. What I want you to do is to allow me to stay in the Hyperion for a short while, and to gather my family- including Angelus- about me there."  
  
"Angelus? You mean, Angel without his soul?" Fred burst out, standing. "You can't do that!"  
  
"You are right. I have no desire to rid Angel of his soul, and I am sorry if my use of his older name upsets you. To an old lady, these things become confusing."  
  
"But who else do you include as family?" asks Gunn, remaining jaded for as long as possible.  
  
"Well. I've called them. They'll come. Even your friend will come. Now, let us consider the human. Cordelia has been taken by the Higher Powers, and they will return her in due course. When she comes, I will be able to help you find her, but until then I can do nothing. Wesley, on the other hand, simply needs to be given a chance to make amends. Can you give him that?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In England  
  
Giles POV  
  
He was very upset over that incident with the demon-ghost. I've seen him upset before, and I put his tantrums on a scale, like the Richter scale for earthquakes. These days, a big one really can shake my world, so I guess it's appropriate. This must have been at least a 5: 'Damage, may cause walls to crack and fall'. He sulked for days, but he didn't actually leave. I live in dread that he will go.  
  
His soul hasn't really changed him that much. He is more human, but as a human he was barely more than a teenager- he won't tell me exactly how old, his age is one of the things he's picky about, but I guess twenty at most- so he still has the hormones, the mood swings, and the emotions that come with being teenaged, as well as the poetic depths of his soul.  
  
A near contempary of his, Oscar Wilde, once said, "All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling," (and he would know, his was fairly terrible). It amazes me sometimes that William doesn't spend all his time writing poetry. I know he sometimes does, but he mostly burns it.  
  
Once I woke up in the middle of the night to find his space in the bed empty, and crept out into the kitchen to see him huddled over the table, carefully writing on a sheet of paper by candlelight. He must have heard me coming, because he blew out the candle and took me back to bed. The next morning, there were paper-ashes on the table, so I guess he burnt the sheet when I was asleep again.  
  
Anyway, I have to find some way to make it up to him. I've made my plans and laid my traps carefully. Firstly, I phoned Willow in Sunnydale, one evening when he'd gone out for a walk, or a fight, or something. I asked her to buy the tapes of 'Passions' that he'd missed, and send them over. Amazingly, they were here within days.  
  
Secondly, I chose an evening when nothing could disturb us- or so I thought. This notion of being undisturbed appears to be one currently foreign to my life. We were meant to have some quality time alone this evening. I spent much of the day at work (Bath's public library, whatever- hours-they-need-me, isn't great, but it's better than no work at all) and got home about five, just in time for the telephone to ring- Charlene. She had to go up to York to see her mother, suddenly taken ill, and wondered if we could look after her kid, a young boy by the name of Rowan, so that her husband could go with her.  
  
I couldn't really say no, could I? I'm much too helpful, that's my trouble. William was still asleep. He only sleeps in the day if I go out, and when I'm out all day it can be up to an hour before he wakes once I do arrive. Subconsciously or not, it seems to be some sort of protest at being left alone.  
  
He emerges from the bedroom as I put the phone down. "Who was that, Rupes?" he asks, sleepily.  
  
"Charlene. She needs our help again."  
  
"Our? You mean your help."  
  
"No, our help." I step forward and kiss him on his forehead, bending down slightly and running my hands through his shoulder-length, tousled hair because he won't tip his face up to me.  
  
"Can't. Daylight, you know?"  
  
"What makes you think it involves going out?"  
  
"Let me get a drink before you quiz me." He pulls out of my grasp- telling me that the tension of Thursday's events still stands between us- and heads for the blood bags in the kitchen fridge.  
  
"I'm not intending to quiz you. Do you want me to tell you, or not? He'll be here soon, anyway, and you might want to know what's going on."  
  
"He'll be here soon? You mean someone is coming here, to disturb our precious time together?"  
  
"I'm afraid so. Charlene and her husband have to go up to York, to visit her mother, and they don't want to take Rowan with them, so I've said he can stay here for a couple of days, in the spare bedroom."  
  
"A couple of days? We have a what- four year old? Staying here for a couple of days?"  
  
"He's six, yes, and I can hear them coming up stairs now."  
  
William swears quietly, swallows the last of his blood, and heads back into the bedroom to do something- maybe just to avoid Charlene.  
  
They don't hang around long, and it is only a few minutes before I am showing Rowan his room. "You'll be staying in here. I'll move your bags for you, and you can get settled in. William, have you met Rowan?"  
  
"I'm just about to," he shoots back. He has changed the cotton slacks and shirt for black jeans and t-shirt, more Spike than William. I'm accustomed to adapting quickly from one to the other- certain social situations, or where he is threatened or upset, and he rapidly falls back on the defensive patterns of Spike's behaviour, bleached hair or no.  
  
"Rowan, this is William- or more often, Spike." It'll confuse the child, but there's not much I can do about that. I have to let William know I can acknowledge that change in him.  
  
"Spike, this is Rowan."  
  
"Hey, kid," he says. Thank goodness it's not actually rude and doesn't contain swearwords.  
  
"Hey," Rowan says a little nervously.  
  
"Do you want a drink, Rowan?" I ask. Spike's making me nervous, too.  
  
"Um.. Yes please," Rowan says, so we head through to the kitchen. Spike follows us, and I realise that I'll have to be careful- William is just immature enough to get jealous of the attention I have to give Rowan. Okay, so it's quite likely that he is already. I also realise I don't know how much Rowan knows about William, vampires, etc. The fact that his mother is well educated in the area and very accepting doesn't mean that the child knows anything about it.  
  
"Orange juice or milk? Spike?"  
  
"Milk, please," Rowan tells me. Thankfully he isn't as smart-alec as I would have been at six, and doesn't reply 'Yes, I'd like Spike, thank you.' William- who is all mine, mostly- doesn't deign to reply.  
  
I pour milk for Rowan and put the kettle on for me. While it boils, I turn round. God knows what we're going to do with a six year old for however long it takes. My lover seems to have had the same thought. He is leaning against the doorpost, body tense and hard beneath the tight fitting clothes, and he looks entirely too.but I'm getting distracted here. Maybe that's why he's dressed like that.  
  
"So, Rowan, what do you like to do?"  
  
"It's a really great choice you've got here. You can watch dull British telly, practise handstands against the bookcases or thump Rupert," Spike informs the lad, when it looks like he might hesitate.  
  
Apparently Rowan is capable of smart-alec answers. He asks Spike, "Can I watch telly while I'm practising handstands?"  
  
"Only if you promise to kick Rupert when you fall over from the boredom," Spike replies. I can see that those two are natural conspirators, and with William in this childish mood, I dread to think what might happen. He might get jealous, or he might gang up on me. Or possibly both. I think I should at least try and quell this uprising early on.  
  
"Finish your milk before you begin practising handstands or you'll spill it," I say, and.  
  
"Or pour it down your nose," Spike adds, causing Rowan to giggle hysterically- a course of action also rather likely to end in spilt milk.  
  
Behind me, the kettle has boiled, and against my better judgement I turn away to make my tea. Everything will look calmer, more manageable viewed from the other side of a cup of tea. It always does. My grandmother said so, and I believe her- practical experience notwithstanding.  
  
As I warm the pot and brew the tea, I hear their conversation continue. I suspect I'm missing something, not having the visual element, but I refuse to turn round before I have a warm cup in my hands.  
  
When the giggling stops, there is a pause, then Rowan asks, thoughtfully, "If I poured enough milk down my nose, would it start spilling out my ears?"  
  
Pause. Then, "Only if your brain doesn't soak it up, like a sponge," Spike says. His voice is the ultimate voice of reason, the patient tone he once told me that he used to reserve for Drusilla.  
  
It works brilliantly on Rowan, who responds, "My brain's more like an indoor golf ball than a sponge."  
  
I pour my tea out and turn around.  
  
"Then it probably would run through. Do you like cartoons?" Spike is asking.  
  
"Oh yes! Tom and Jerry are the best, but I like the others, too. Can we watch cartoons?" Rowan looks up at me.  
  
"Yes," I sigh. It'll give me a bit of a chance to get straight, if they both stare at the dreaded goggle box.  
  
They watch television all afternoon and on into the evening. I sat and watched them some of the time, from my favourite armchair.  
  
William (or is he Spike again, despite the long honey-blond hair and the neater clothing? Who knows?) watches avidly, and comments frequently.  
  
"Stupid mouse," he says when they're watching Tom and Jerry, "daft cat, can't you see he doesn't love you?" The comments are sometimes insightful- as when he tells Morticia Addams to stop denying it and sleep with Wednesday (although I do wonder what Rowan made of that)- and sometimes inane- "Fool, Geordi, you should stick it up with chewing up," when Star Trek: the Next Generation comes on.  
  
Rowan watches carefully, and replies to the things they say. He often knows what's going to happen long before the characters do. "He'll fall," he says gleefully to Jerry, when Tom is still looking at the river, not having seen the bridge, let alone started to cross it. His dark brown hair is cut short, and contrasts with William's long blond mop.  
  
At bedtime, we tuck Rowan up on the couch, and William and I curl up in bed. He doesn't speak to me, but lies facing away from me. I hate it when it gets like this, when he withdraws inside and into Spike. All I can do is wait, and hope that he talks instead of actually running off and leaving me forever, as I fear he will. When Morpheus takes me, I dream of being alone, that William has gone and I have to explain why.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Midnight. Spike's POV.  
  
I can't ignore it. I haven't felt the call often, and never this strongly before, but I can't ignore it. I don't want to leave Rupert, but he can't come. He's the one who said we could care for Rowan, after all. He's got to stay.  
  
This isn't the little call that Dru used, "Come here, my Spike," or even the command that Angelus could issue, "Here, boy," as if I were a dog: this is something older, deeper, and quite as inescapable. I phoned up for ticket to LA as soon as I woke from the dream, and now I'm packing.  
  
I'll write him a note. It might not help, but it should soften it a bit. If I can explain that it's family and I can't stay, he- well, he'll just have to take it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In a box, somewhere in the depths of the ocean, Angel rouses himself from a hallucination.  
  
{He was warm, smiling, with his friends, even Wesley. He remembers food, candlelight, the touch of Cordy's lips on his.}  
  
"I'm coming, Sire," his lips mummer into gently swirling cold water, and he strains harder against the bonds that hold him. They begin to strain and creak, rotted by the water.  
  
If a salty tear leaks out of his eye, it goes unoticed in the great mass of the ocean, a world's worth of sadness. If the few fish who manage to live this far down observe the strange creature that sets out to walk towards where he guess the shore must be, they do not comment.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In Willow's dorm room, Drusilla pulls a blanket off the bed and goes in search of someone with a car. She knows she has to go- the voice is clearer than any she's heard before.  
  
"Coming, mummy, coming." 


	25. Family Matters Notes

Title: Family Matters part 2: The Notes  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: In LA, a mysterious woman summons Fred and Gunn, saying she can help them find Angel. Meanwhile, in England.  
  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Fred/Gunn, others later.  
  
Spoilers: For the ends of Buffy season 6 and Angel season 3. Also contains some things gathered from spoilers on seasons 7 and 4 respectively.  
  
Warnings: Pre-slash, unusual Mary-Sue.  
  
Author Notes: This is Mary-Sue. I freely admit it. But it's not quite the normal kind.  
  
Story Notes: None.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss etc gets it, I get nothing, not even chocolate money.  
  
Rupert,  
  
I have gone to LA. Someone there- Angel maybe- is calling me. It's a Sire-call, and I can't ignore it. When you can, join me. Please.  
  
I love you, always,  
  
William.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
My Willow,  
  
Mummy says I must go to the party, and Miss Edith will be with me. I love you, pretty one,  
  
Dru.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
If only I could reach you! I see your faces, dancing, smiling, but when I stretch out you're not there. If I can go one more pace, and another, I will find you. I will- I must.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Right, Angelus, why the hell have you fucking called me?" William yells, as he kicks open the doors to the hotel.  
  
Gunn leaps out of the chair behind their reception desk.  
  
"Just who do you think you are?"  
  
"Name's William. Where's Angel?"  
  
"He's not here. Can I help?"  
  
"Not unless you happen to be my Sire in disguise."  
  
"'Fraid I'm not. Who were you looking for?"  
  
"My Sire, you pillock!"  
  
"Well, the only people here at the moment are me, Fred and Alice."  
  
"And just who are you? Something's odd here."  
  
"I'm Charles Gunn. Pleased to meet you, man."  
  
"Vampire, actually."  
  
They shake hands, the peaceable, if surreal, nature of the gesture stunning both of them into unaccustomed silence.  
  
Eventually, Gunn says, "Vampire, huh? Why ain't you trying to bite me?"  
  
"Got a peaky soul, ain't I. Not to mention a chip."  
  
"You must be Angel's grand-childe, then. Not calling yourself Spike anymore?"  
  
"Na. Got bored with it. Look, if Peaches ain't here, and nor's Dru, or Darla, who's called me?"  
  
"Alice."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"As I understand it, she'd your Sire, ages back. She turned Hienreich, he turned Darla, she turned- well, I expect you know about that."  
  
"She's the Master's Sire! Alice- Alice Malone?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And she's called me?"  
  
"The whole family. You're just the first to arrive."  
  
"Oh. Does she want to see me?"  
  
"I dare say. I'll go ask her when."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Five minutes later, William was wondering whether the soul of his boots or the floor would wear holes in them first if he kept pacing, when Gunn came down again, with a pretty girl by his side and a blue-skinned demon following close behind.  
  
"She says you're to go up now. It's room 164, just at the top of the stairs." Gunn told the impatient vampire.  
  
"Right." With barely a glance at the other two, William went, trying to check that he was reasonably respectable as he went. He wasn't quite sure who Alice Malone was or why she seemed to be working with humans, but if she was his Sire- however many times removed, she probably wanted him to at least look neat.  
  
He knocked on the door labelled "164", and waiting, trying to contain his mounting irritation.  
  
"Come in," an elderly voice called, and he noticed he could hear breathing- human breathing!  
  
Pushing the door back, he went in. The room was dimly lit and hot, heated over and above the Los Angeles summer. Lying in the bed was a tall woman, frail and bony. When he saw her, he realised- this is the woman who Called me! She's human?  
  
"You're human?" he said, frowning. "You're human, and you Called me."  
  
"I'm not really human," she replied. "Come, sit by me. We have much to talk about."  
  
"Yeah, that we do," he says, letting his annoyance show, but he pulls up a chair and sits by the bedside.  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
"You're Alice Malone- the Master's Sire, Darla's grandsire."  
  
"That's right. How long have you known that?"  
  
"Since about five minutes ago."  
  
"Have you ever heard of me in another context?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Well, I'm a human-immortal. Like the girl Cordelia, I traded my humanity for demonic abilities that help me fulfil my role. I got a vampire face, a heartbeat, and visions. It's a simple deal, and has proved well worth my while- even if I do have to drink blood occasionally."  
  
"Doesn't sound too bad, I admit."  
  
"Well- I find blood drinking quite disgusting, but every deal of this kind must have its down side, while one retains enough freedom to make mistakes."  
  
"Much as I'm enjoying this little story-telling session, I have a lover back in England I'm rather anxious to return to. Could you tell me why I'm here?"  
  
"Because I want a family reunion. To save your Grandsire from madness, I had to put out a Call strong enough to summon all of you."  
  
"This is my Grandsire in which reckoning?"  
  
"There's more than one? I meant Angelus."  
  
"I have a physical Sire and an emotional Sire. We won't go into that now. Why're you trying to save Angel from madness? Is he in danger?"  
  
"His son."  
  
"Angel has a son!"  
  
"Yes, a human boy, born of prophecy. Angel and Darla conceived him."  
  
"Darla's still around?"  
  
"Yes, she was made human by Wolfram and Hart- the lawyers- and then Drusilla turned her again. Did you not know that?"  
  
"No, no one tells me anything around here."  
  
"That isn't quite true, William- I'm about to tell you some things."  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Yes. So listen well, and please feel free to take notes."  
  
William smiles gently, and settles back. If he's got no choice in the matter of listening to this old biddy, he might as well enjoy it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In a dark hovel in LA's back streets, a teenaged boy turns in his sleep and opens one eye, to find a blonde woman staring him in the face. "Err," he says, and then- as his senses wake- realises. Not a woman- a vampire.  
  
He gropes to his side for a stake, but the woman catches his arm. "Connor?" she says. "Angel wanted to call you Connor, and I guess he must have had his way in this forsaken dimension."  
  
"Get off me, demon!" the boy snarls. "My name's Steven, and Angel has no control over me!"  
  
"Hush, my son," she whispers. "Of course he doesn't. Not everything in this world has to be about Angel."  
  
"I'm not your son!"  
  
"Oh, but you are. I was going to call you Alexander, after another great king, but Angel said the name had unpleasant associations. How about Alex, do you like that?"  
  
"Get away from me!"  
  
"Oh, come now. Can't you feel the call? The spell has worked- I walk this plane once more- and my Grandsire is calling. Don't you want to come, my son?"  
  
"I feel the pull- but I'm no son of yours."  
  
"You are- but you must come, anyway." She pulls him up, although he protests, and out into the warm night. He tries to land some punches and a kick, but she evades most of them and punches him back for the ones that land.  
  
"You are my son," she growls, "and you will come with me!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Drusilla? I'm home!" Willow says, opening the door of her dorm room. "Sorry I'm late. The Scooby meeting took longer than expected. We haven't been friends like this for so long." Seeing no one, she goes over to the bed where she left her lover asleep, and sees the note.  
  
What? Mummy? Darla, maybe? Where? She sits down on the bed, thinking fast.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"The note he left says he's gone to LA. I'm going to fly over as soon as I can, but I'd be grateful if you'd ring LA and see if he's there."  
  
"I'll do that, Giles. I can hear my 'call waiting' going- I get back to you when I've heard something. Bye."  
  
"Goodbye."  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Buffy? It's Willow here. Dru's gone. There's a note, but it doesn't say where. You know how she is."  
  
"I know. Don't worry, Will- I have a lead. Giles has just phoned to say Spike took off for LA yesterday, so I'm guessing maybe Dru got a vamp-call too."  
  
"That's would explain, "Mummy says I must go," certainly."  
  
"I'm thinking maybe we should drive down there, find out what's going on."  
  
"Yeah- Dru won't last long on her own, and if we follow in the car. She can't have been gone for long, the sun's only just gone down- you don't think she went before."  
  
"No, Willow, I'm sure Dru isn't that stupid. Not while she's at near full strength, anyway. I'll call Xander, ask him to pick us up, and get Clem to come and stay with Dawn."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Put some clothes together- we might want to stay a night or two. And don't worry, Will- I've got this all under control."  
  
"Thanks, Buffy."  
  
"See you."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Of course I can drive you, Buffy. Harmony has gone off on one of her road trips again, so I'm happy to help."  
  
"You okay with that?"  
  
"I'm fine. I'll go pick Willow up, and be with you in ten minutes. You can interrogate me on the way to LA."  
  
"Xander! You make me sound like the Spanish inquisition."  
  
"Hah! None of those vampires expect you, do they?"  
  
"Just get the car out, Xander. We can be silly on the way, too."  
  
"I'm glad of that. Your taxi will be with you soon."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Of course you must go to him. I quite understand. Helen will help out, you say?"  
  
"Yes- Helen will take me to the airport and then pick Rowan up after school tomorrow. She'll look after him until you get back, hopefully tomorrow afternoon."  
  
"I think I've got that now, Rupert. You should go and get packed now- it's going to be hard to be ready to go in time."  
  
"I don't plan on packing everything up- I'm coming back, no matter what's happened."  
  
"Don't be too sure. You sound like you're tempting fate, to me. Still, go and pack. I hope it all works out for you and William."  
  
"So do I. Goodbye, Charlene."  
  
"Goddess bless."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"So I could turn Rupert, but he'd still be human? With a soul, and everything?"  
  
"Everyone has to make their own bargain with the Powers, William. You would most likely have to give something up, or do something which was unpleasant or difficult for you."  
  
"I could deal with that. I made a bargain to get my soul, after all. It's something I could do again. Tell me- how do I get to the Powers to make a deal?"  
  
"It's hard work. I think the girl Cordelia may be able to help you."  
  
"Then let's find her."  
  
"Harder still, but I admire your enthusiasm. You lover is coming- he may be able to help us."  
  
"Rupert's coming? Since when?"  
  
"He boarded the plane as I spoke to you. Visions are whimsical things, sometimes."  
  
"So what do I do?"  
  
She smiles, the soft smile of one who is trying not show the pain they are in. "Wait, and let me rest awhile."  
  
"I need something to do."  
  
"Wait, and let me rest. Go now."  
  
Reluctantly, he says, "Okay. I'll be downstairs."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Hours later, Alice wakes from a dream; to realise it was a vision. She sees her Childer, their footsteps sounding in a firm rhythm: William pacing in the hallway below, Angel striding across the seabed, Drusilla marching by the roadway, Darla dragging her son through LA's alleyways, and Heinreich- Heinriech! Involuntarily, she squints her eyes, trying to confirm her identification, but the vision is gone. Where was he? Near at hand, though she hadn't known she'd called him.  
  
"Rangy!" she calls, weakly, her physical voice deficient in comparison with her loud physic voice.  
  
"Yes, my lady?" the blue-skinned demon answers.  
  
"It's Heinreich! He is coming! I saw him. Somewhere- north of here."  
  
"Inside the city or out, ma'm?"  
  
"Outside. About as far away as Drusilla is, in the opposite direction."  
  
"What do you desire me to do, lady?"  
  
"Find him. Fetch him here. If we are to have a family reunion, even the unruly ones who have come from other realities."  
  
"From other realities?" Gunn asks. He had come to listen when he heard Ranguger called.  
  
"Yes. In my stretch to reach my far-flung Childer, all the way across the globe, I must have called those who were dwelling in other realities as well. I just pray that they can be tamed and controlled, not to rampage through the city killing everyone in their path."  
  
"Yeah, it'd be a shame to let that happen," Gunn agreed, dryly.  
  
"I must confess that I agree. For a city, Los Angeles is most pleasing, and not only because it is soon to be the scene of one of my parties."  
  
"So how do you propose to control him, lady?" Ranguger chipped in.  
  
"I think we must cast a curse upon him. He does not have to love of a mortal that William had, to inspire him to find his own soul."  
  
"Can you do that?"  
  
"Yes, and better- Heinriech, I think, may be speared the happiness clause that was the interesting invention of the gypsy woman."  
  
"You can use the gypsy curse?"  
  
"She embellished mine. There is a world of difference. It would be best if you were to go and find Heinriech, observe him- capture him if need be- until we can perform the curse. It will take me some time to prepare." Gunn nods and departs. "Rangy, I'll need my Book Of Shadows, my herbs bag, and an Orb of Thesulah. There's probably one in the suitcase."  
  
Ranguger also nods, and moves into the room to search the suitcase by his mistresses' bed, while she- slowly and carefully- pulls herself up to a sitting position. He watches the operation out of the corner of one yellow- green eye, but does not offer his help. Long years have taught him that to offer help is a sure way to anger her into do even more things that tire her. 'Contrary, you mistress, isn't she?' says a voice in his head.  
  
'Yes,' he replies, silently, 'She never knows when to stop. I care for her, though, even if she can't say my name properly.'  
  
'I see that,' the voice says, 'Have no fear. I have to wish to harm her."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In a plane over the Atlantic, Rupert Giles polishes his glasses nervously. 'Calm down,' he tells himself. 'It will be okay. You'll find him.' 


	26. Family Matter Email

Title: Family Matters part 3: The E-mails  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: In LA, a mysterious woman is taking over the hotel. Meanwhile, things keep happening.  
  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Fred/Gunn, others later.  
  
Spoilers: For the ends of Buffy season 6 and Angel season 3. Also contains some things gathered from spoilers on seasons 7 and 4 respectively.  
  
Warnings: Pre-slash, unusual Mary-Sue.  
  
Author Notes: This is Mary-Sue. I freely admit it. But it's not quite the normal kind.  
  
Story Notes: None.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss etc gets it, I get nothing, not even chocolate money.  
  
Cordy,  
  
I'm hoping this will get to you before we do. I think we need Angel's help- Drusilla's been chipped, she's probably on the way to LA, and I'd kind of like for us to find her.  
  
Willow.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Can't you drive any faster, Xander?"  
  
"No, Willow. If you want to drive, you can, but please stop asking me to go faster."  
  
"Sorry." Willow sinks back in her seat, and tries to concentrate on looking out the window. It's hard work, because she can't see anything in the dark.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Ranguger? Rangy? Spike?" Gunn yells. "I could kind of use some help here!"  
  
Ranguger comes running down the stairs. "Did you find them?"  
  
"Yes, and then some. I now have two angry vampires and and scared humanm teenager with the fighting skills of a marshel arts expert in my truck. The poor girl's in real danger!"  
  
"The girl?" Ranguger frowns, demon-style, sticking his tounge out and wrinkling his nose.  
  
"My truck," Gunn explains. "Come on, let's get them chained up and indoors."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"But you are a demon too!"  
  
"Yes, but I am going to cook you a meal," Ranguger explains, patienly, to the frightened human child. "You are hungry, and we are going to go and cook something for you to eat. is that not a good idea?"  
  
Finally, the young man nods. "Food is good," he says.  
  
"Then let's go. Do you like- toppings on bread, um, pizza?"  
  
"I don't know. Is it good to eat?"  
  
"My mistress says so."  
  
"Is she human?"  
  
"As near as makes no odds."  
  
"Then I'll try some." The man-boy who calls himself Steven smiles, and Ranguager does his best to mimic the gesture. 'No sense in scaring him by smiling as you or I would,' agrees the voice in his mind.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Later:  
  
Coming through the double doors, the first thing Drusilla sees is her Childe, asleep on the central seats. The second thing she sees is Gunn and Fred, leaning against the counter and kissing.  
  
She claps her hands and giggles. "I like the show!" she says. "Spike, why aren't you watching?"  
  
Fred breaks the kiss, and both she and Gunn open their eyes, looking horrified. William keeps his eyes shut and groans, as quietly as he can, thankful that when you've got no breath without making an effort, you can groan very quietly.  
  
"Well? Spike?"  
  
Before anyone can reply, someone else bangs through the doors. "Oi! You! You can't just leave like that, without paying! Excuse me, people, this here girl's gotta pay for her ride!"  
  
Gunn recovers his senses. "It's alright, I'll pay," he says, hoping that he can get the money out Alice later. "How much?"  
  
While he settles Drusilla's taxi fare from Sunnydale, Fred approaches her. "You must be one of Alice's relations, right?" she says.  
  
"That's right. Hey, Dru, honey." William stands and steps over to them.  
  
"You know her?"  
  
"Kind of. She's my Sire, remember the drill?"  
  
"Oh, of course," Fred replies, remembering Alice's list of names. "So this is Drusilla?"  
  
"That's me. Is the human with the noisy car gone now? He was nice, but I couldn't bite him."  
  
"The taxi driver's gone, yes," Gunn tells her. "This could be the wrong question to ask, but why couldn't you bite him?"  
  
A laptop beeps from its coner, and Fred goes to see why.  
  
"She got chipped, like me," William informs Gunn. "Do you need a rest, baby? Or do you want me to explain now? I guess we'd better tell Alice you're here."  
  
"Who's Alice?"  
  
"I guess that means explain now. You remember your Grandmum, Darla, right? Well."  
  
"Oh!" Fred exclaimes, from her laptop corner. "I don't suppose I can stop them now."  
  
"Willow's coming after her lover, is she? Typical," William mutters.  
  
"Willow's coming, yes," Fred says, frowning, "But she's coming after Drusilla."  
  
"That's right." William grins at Fred's expression, glad he got the chance to relay that piece of news. Being the messenger is a habit it's hard to break.  
  
"Oh." Fred looks at Gunn, realisation dawning. "Willow and Drusilla are.you know. but I thought vampires.with their Sires.Angel and Darla."  
  
"Normally we do." William's grin widens into something undeinably Spikeish. "I and Dru did, and Dru and Angel, and me and Angel, and Darla and Angel, and me 'n' Darla, 'n' Darla 'n'.do ya want me to go on?" Gunn's expression is so clearly reable as 'Stop giving my girlfriend emotionally scarring mental pictures, or I'll stake you,' that William actually puts up his hands.  
  
"I'm stopping, I'm stopping," he says. "Come on, Dru, let's take you to meet Grandmama mark 2. Assuming she can take a break from her herbs and whatnot."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"You are hungry, young man. Three pizzas is more than even my newphew Jatra can eat in one sitting. What name do you prefer, by the way? I have heard you called Connor and Alex, but you introduced yourself as Steven."  
  
"My name's Steven. I won't take anything given to me by a demon."  
  
"Indeed. No offence, and I really don't want you to try giving it back, but you took pizza from me easily enough."  
  
Steven swallows hard and looks at Ranguger. "That's different," he mumbles.  
  
"If you say so. I think we should go and see how the lady Alice is getting on. I suspect the spell should be nearly ready by now."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the ballroom, two chained vampires come round.  
  
"Darla? I thought you'd been staked."  
  
"Master? Forgive me- yes, I was. The human lawyers brought me back from the dead, as human, to torment Angelus- Angel, he calls himself now."  
  
"But you're a vampire again now?"  
  
"Yes. My human body was dying- you know that- so they brought in Drusilla to turn me."  
  
"And the boy who was with you? Another Childe?"  
  
"No, he's human- my son."  
  
In the next room, with Ranguger standing close by, Alice chants the final words of the spell. The Orb glows and goes dark.  
  
The two vampires scream.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
On the beach at LA's edge, another vampire crawls out of the water and begins to head for the hotel. With only two hours to go before dawn, he will have to work hard to reach his destination in time, but there is no other choice.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
As a blue-skinned demon tucks his mistress into bed, watched carefully from the doorway by the rest of the gathering tribe, Alice whisphers, her voice harsh from chanting, "Angelus is coming. Fetch him to safety before dawn. No snow storms today."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In one of the darker streets, a truck takes the corner much too fast.  
  
"Slow down! It's not often I say this, damn you, slow down!" William- well, the word that springs to Gunn's mind is 'squeals'. He has a nasty feeling that Cordelia and Spike will get along all too well.  
  
He slows the truck a little. "Not far now!" William says. "I can feel him." he opens the door of the truck before Gunn can stop it completely, and leans down, scooping a pile of skin, bones and wet rags into the cabin. "Now get a move on" We've got to get the Great Poof here home before the sun gets up, idiot!"  
  
"No pleasing some folks," Gunn mutters sourly, but he puts his foot down again and speeds them homewards.  
  
The suddenness of it overtakes Angel, and all he can do is cough once, spitting sea water all over Gunn's uphostlery, before passing out.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
In the airport, Rupert snatchs up his one bag and pushes through the crowd, his natural British politeness smuthered for once by his need to find his lover. The taxi driver looks at him a little oddly when he says he wants to Hyperion- Joe said something was odd about a woman he'd taken there- but he figured a fare was a fare.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Are you sure you can't go any faster?"  
  
"Yes, and Willow, please don't raise your voice. Buffy's asleep."  
  
"Xander?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I don't like this car. It's too slow." 


	27. Family Matters Group Hug

Title: Family Matters part 4: Group Hug  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: spam@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: In LA, a mysterious woman summons Fred and Gunn, saying she can help them find Angel. Meanwhile, in England.  
  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Fred/Gunn, Buffy/Clem, Willow/Drusilla, maybe others.  
  
Spoilers: For the ends of Buffy season 6 and Angel season 3. Also contains some things gathered from spoilers on seasons 7 and 4 respectively.  
  
Warnings: Pre-slash, unusual Mary-Sue.  
  
Author Notes: This is Mary-Sue. I freely admit it. But it's not quite the normal kind.  
  
Story Notes: None.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss etc gets it, I get nothing, not even chocolate money.  
  
On the pavement outside the hotel, Giles pays his taxi driver and tried to summon up the courage to go inside, wondering as he did so why.  
  
On the sidewalk outside the hotel, Willow was about to try her best to yell "Hurray" without waking Buffy, when she spots Giles and changes it to, "Xander, your car is a miserably slow wreck!"  
  
"Err, what?" Buffy calls, woken suddenly, and a touch alarmed.  
  
"We've arrived," Xander tells her. "And Giles is here, too."  
  
"That didn't take you long," Buffy says. "In fact, that's almost impossibly quick."  
  
"Well, I may have, um, cheated a little," Giles says, looking shamefaced. "Shall we go in, see if our respective significant others are here?"  
  
"Yes, let's do this," Willow replies.  
  
They push open the doors and go in.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Inside, they are met by a bizarre scene. Willow rushes for Drusilla, standing at the bottom of the stairs, nearly pushing her over; and Giles heads- with equal enthusiasm and only a little more dignity- for William.  
  
"Rupert!" the tawny-headed vampire cries. They hug tightly. "I'm sorry, love, I really am."  
  
"You had no choice. It's okay. Hey- don't cry."  
  
William sniffs, and does his best, but Rupert's eyes are filling with tears too. "I'm here now, that's the important thing."  
  
"B,b,b,b,but Rowan."  
  
"Helen took him. It's all okay."  
  
"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."  
  
"Don't worry- I think I may have some idea."  
  
Buffy and Xander have been left to survey the room from their vantage point at the head of the stairs.  
  
"There are a lot of people here," the dark haired boy observes.  
  
"Not all of them are people," Buffy replies, "and I don't recognise most of them. Angel, asleep on the sofa; Spike, Dru, Gunn I guess. The rest."  
  
"A blue-skinned guy, an old woman in bed- and what's a bed doing in a hotel reception anyway? No Cordelia, a boy about Dawn's age, a girl kissing a black guy.."  
  
"The black guy is Gunn, I think."  
  
"Right. Then a blond woman and a bald guy- whose face keeps flickering?"  
  
"Yeah- he's a vampire who's lost control over his masks. I've seen it once or twice before."  
  
"Watch carefully- it isn't quite a normal vamp mask, is it?"  
  
"He looks- he's the Master!"  
  
"That is seriously spooky."  
  
"Why isn't he attacking or something? There are lots of humans here."  
  
"I think I need some more information. Giles!"  
  
Rupert looks round, over the dark blond head that William is pushing into his shoulder.  
  
"Yes?" he answers, and adds, "Hush, William."  
  
"Can you tell me who these people are?"  
  
"Mostly, no. Try asking them."  
  
William looks up. "I can help you there, Slayer. I've been introduced to most of them." His lover's expression at the use of 'Slayer' instead of her names makes William frown, and say, "Sorry, Buffy. Um, the blue-skinned guy is Ranguger, he works for Alice Malone, she's the woman in the bed; the vampires over there are Heinriech- the Master- and Darla; the humans necking are Gunn and Fred, and the boy next to Ranguger is Connor, or maybe Steven, or possibly Alex. No one seems to be very sure."  
  
Buffy nods. "So who's in charge?"  
  
"The woman in the bed, in theory at least."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Buffy marches down the steps and across the room. "Hello," she says to the sleeping woman, "My name's Buffy Summers, I'm the Slayer, and this looks a lot like a vampire nest. How many of you want to take me on?"  
  
"None, my dear," the woman replies, green eyes snapping open. "I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Summers- I knew your first Watcher vaguely."  
  
"You knew Merrick?"  
  
"Is that the name he gave you? Yes, I knew Merrick. He was a good man."  
  
"You're in charge around here?"  
  
"I'm head of the Order, indeed. The humans I cannot speak for."  
  
"Do you mind if I go round and ask for introductions?"  
  
"Be my guest. Please, ask you friends to enlighten me about their names, also."  
  
Buffy turns away, facing the room. "I'd like name, rank and number, or whatever. No icky relationship details, though- we had those last time I had to do this." She is about to point at the first being, when a glow of light appears in the centre of the hall. In it, Cordelia materialises.  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
"That's me. I hope I didn't miss anything."  
  
"We were just about to do introductions," Buffy replies, letting the voice at the back of her mind that says, "This can't be happening," be smothered by the reality of the situation.  
  
"Good. Please, go ahead. I don't know most of these people."  
  
Cordelia steps back, to the wall, and Buffy points at random.  
  
"I'm Steven," a teenaged boy tells her. "My parents were demons, but my real father is dead. What's a Slayer?"  
  
"Thanks, Steven. I'll talk to you in a minute, if you don't mind. Next?"  
  
"Ranguger, Mistress Malone's personal assistant."  
  
"Excuse me- may I name my Childer all at once? They are all souled or chipped now, so you needn't worry about staking them." Buffy takes her hand out of her pocket, and nods. "My eldest is Heinriech, whom you knew as the Master; his Childe is Darla; her Childe is Angel; his Childe is Drusilla and her Childe is William."  
  
"And his Childe is me- Harmony Kendall!"  
  
All eyes turn towards the back of the hall, save for Alice, who cannot see from her recumberent posture. "I came in through the sewers, hope you don't mind. I couldn't not come, you know, but dawn's coming."  
  
"Come here, William," Alice says, low and remarkably threatening for such a frail looking body. "You said nothing of having a Childe."  
  
"Oh, it's not in the physical way," Harmony explains. "I just wanted to be in an Order- builds up a positive self-image- and Spike was very good to me, so I thought I'd say he was my Sire emotionally."  
  
Alice struggles to sit up in bed. "You do not enter the Order by such fancies. This is my word, and I, Alice Malone, will stick by it."  
  
Buffy, hearing yet another gasp behind her, turns to look at Giles. "Something wrong, Giles?"  
  
"You're Alice Malone? The noted psychic and curse-writer?"  
  
"I am. And you are? We didn't finish the introductions."  
  
"Giles, Rupert Giles. I was Buffy's Watcher for many years."  
  
"Ah, I see. William has spoken of you, many times in the past few hours since we met."  
  
Rupert smiles at that. "You say these two vampires are now souled?"  
  
"That's right. A curse, my own work. Unfortunately, it may not be as strong as some curses- only one curse on both of them- but it has no happiness clause."  
  
"You know about the gypsy curse?" Willow chips in. "I'd love to know."  
  
"Many things, which I will talk to you about later. The short version is that I wrote the curse, and the gypsy woman added a clause or two. We can talk about it in more detail later on, if you desire- or I and Rupert can. I have no wish to see the lady Rosenburg working magic again."  
  
"You know my name?"  
  
"How could I not? My vision were full of you for weeks, until your friend, um- Alexander, is it?- saved the world."  
  
"Xander, normally," the young man in question tells her. He's come down the stairs, and now he move to stand where she can see him properly.  
  
"Xander, yes. What is it, Angelus, Childe?"  
  
Angel is stirring on the floor, groaning softly. Buffy kneels down beside him. "Angel? Are you okay? Silly question- what can I do to help?"  
  
He opens his eyes a crack, just enough to see his former girlfriend. "Wesley. Blood," Angel mutters, and his eyes shut again.  
  
"Oh, no," Cordelia says. "He's not still out for Wesley's blood, is he? It might have been wrong to take Connor, but this is ridiculous."  
  
"I think maybe he meant separately," William snerks. "He does look a bit starved, don't you think? And while you're going to the fridge, you could get some for me, too."  
  
Giles looks at William, hard. "Alright, alright, I'm going. One warm blood coming right up." William departs for the kitchen.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hey! I'm supposed to be a gate-crasher, here!" Harmony says. Xander decides to save the world once more, if in a slightly more minor way. He crosses to Harmony, and pulls her into a hug.  
  
"We noticed you, harm, we just need to deal with some big things, first."  
  
"Oh. Okay. If you must."  
  
"We must," he assures her, and releases his grip on her enough to look at Buffy. "What do you want us to do?" he asks.  
  
"I want us all to get something to eat, followed by some sleep," she says. 


	28. For Better, for worse 1

Title: For better, for worse (1/3)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
  
Category: Angst, h/c, with mild silly moments.  
  
Timing: Post Season Six. Follows on from the season 4 AU establised in "In Sickness and In Health", contiued in two song fics and 'Perfect Romances' ('Buffy and Clem: the First Cuddle' and 'Party people') not to mention 'Family Matters'.  
  
Summary: They're in love. Caring happens, romance begins, wackiness ensues.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is God, the Grr Argh monster is scary, I don't own any of them, and I promise I won't torture them with hot pokers or sell them into slavery.  
  
Chapter One- Morning  
  
The Hyperion hotel. Late morning, after the reunion of Family Matters.  
  
William:  
  
Bang, bang. I'm getting desperate here- the girl's door may be on the shady side of the place, tehnically, but at this time in the morning the filtered sunlight is too bright for comfort. Bang.  
  
"Spike?" she says, peering under my grey blanket and looking surprised. With good reason I might add- it's broad daylight, granted, but we're indoors.  
  
"Yeah, it's me. Do you think I could come in, Red? 'Cos it's getting kind of hot out here."  
  
"Oh, yes. Come in."  
  
"Who is it, my pretty?" a former girlfriend of mine calls from inside somewhere.  
  
"It's Spike." Drusilla appears in the doorway, curiosity plain on her face. Willow points me in the direction of one of their softer chairs and I sit, shedding my blanket, while she goes off to hunt for something.  
  
"Why are you here?" Dru asks, seating herself beside me.  
  
"Didn't want to stay at in my room." Why should I tell them what happened?  
  
"Oh- why not?" she asks, childlike as ever.  
  
"Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat?" I snap, and regret it a moment later when she looks cowed- I still love her, deep down inside- but Willow steps in on her behalf, so I concentrate on not telling them anything I don't want them to know.  
  
"It still has eight lives left, though. Would you like a cookie, Dru? Spike?"  
  
We both accept cookies, and Willow takes one for herself before sitting down. I chew slowly, hoping to use it as an excuse not to say anything. Unfortunately, the silence- and the cookie- doesn't last long enough.  
  
"How's Giles?" Willow asks- a fair question, but one I really don't want to answer right now.  
  
"Not dead." True enough; he might be plotting ways to bring my death about, but he's still alive and well.  
  
"And how are things between you and him?" Dru is supremely gifted with the ability to ask the questions you don't want to hear, probably aided by the voices in her head.  
  
I scowl, which they rightly interpret as being their answer.  
  
"An argument?" Willow guesses. Damn, that girl is clever.  
  
"Tell us," Dru urges. "Tell us, my Spike."  
  
"Talk about it? Okay then. I had a dream about Angelus. I went to check on Angel. Giles got jealous, several random accusations concerning remote controls, smoking, and not doing the washing up were made, I grabbed a blanket and walked out, and here I am."  
  
"Not exactly a full account," comments Willow, "but it'll do. What did you dream about Angelus?"  
  
"I dreamt he was Angelus again. That's all." It's far from all, and she knows it, but they don't have to hear about how I had a nightmare about the a recurrence of the post-Buffy Angelus, rapeing me because I didn't keep Dru by my side for him to take away again.  
  
"And is he?" the redhead is asking.  
  
"No." Keep it short and simple. Maybe you should have gone to Alice. She might understand.  
  
"Does Giles know why you went?"  
  
"I think so. Well, sort of. He asked where I'd been, and I said 'Angel,' then he asked why and I said 'because I needed to see him'. I think that's the bit he took amiss- I meant 'see him to check he's Angel not Angelus' but he must have thought. I don't know what. After that we got straight into the hurling insults part." I swear these two girls are the reincarnations of my older sisters. They could always get me to tell them everything I didn't want them to know, just by a little persistence and sympathy. You think I would have learnt- but then, I guess these two aren't going to use it to blackmail me for the pennies I earned running errands.  
  
"Well, I'll tell you what I think. I think you should go back to Giles, apologise, and explain, and then I'm sure you'll be all right again." Willow says.  
  
"I didn't ask what you thought I should do."  
  
"No, but I told you anyway. Go now."  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Gods, she is persistent. Because I have to deal with how I feel about Angel, first, but I'm damned if I'm saying that. "Because I have to deal with my feelings for Angel first," I hear myself saying. Oh, demon, right? Damned already.  
  
"And how do you propose to do that?"  
  
I have no idea. What I want to do is cry "Dru turned me but he was my Sire and he left me," and burst into tears, but that would sound ridiculously like harmony again, and ... Given where I am, I suspect I will- and I turn out to be right. It's nice to be able to predict what you're going to do sometimes.  
  
What is it about Red, comforting me? When Dru left me that first time, when I found out I was chipped, before I knew Rupert loved me, and now, when he and I have argued and I'm confused about Angel/us into the bargain, she's the one I end up with. Perhaps- if HTML code and romantic poetry can be compared- it's our shared heritage as geeks who are trying to be normal people, struggling to maintain our places as non-nerds.  
  
"Tell me how you feel about Angel- calmly, this time," Willow prompts when I have finished sobbing, so I try. Slowly, choosing my words with as much care as I can manage, starting at the beginning with some background thrown in, I tell her.  
  
"When you're turned by a member of a vampire order like ours, there are certain things you have to be taught. It's the difference between a minion, the kind of vampire you lot stake every night, and Childe, the kind who knows when to run away.  
  
"Now, Dru turned me," it seems I can say her name to Willow with scarcely a pause, "albeit pretty incompetently." I catch Willow's blank look and explain. "When you're a vampire and you're turning a human, you have to suck their blood until you feel their heart slowing, then feed them yours. The idea, if you read up on it in my complex books, is to have them swallow their first mouthful of blood at much the same time as their heart beats for the last time. It seems Dru misjudged the strength of my heart, and it got in two beats after my first mouthful of her blood. That didn't stop me becoming a vampire, but it did mean I kept more of my human traits than many vampires do. I still loved my parents and sisters, for instance- I was still capable of that love, and still am." Where is Dru now, anyway? I hope she didn't hear that lot.  
  
"I see," Willow says.  
  
"Explains a lot of things, doesn't it?" I grin wryly. "Anyway, Dru turned me, but- well, you know Dru, she's very clever but she couldn't teach a person how to find their arse with both hands, let alone the finer points of rituals and strategy. So Darla, good old traditionalist that she was, insisted Angelus, my Sire's Sire, take over and teach me to always guard my perimeter and all that crap. So Dru turned me, but Angelus was my Sire, and stupid feeling idiot that I am, I loved him for it. You know all those Star Wars geeks who write Yoda/Obi-Wan smut and post it on the web?  
  
"Well, if Yoda was a bastard who enjoyed torture- and okay, this metaphor doesn't go far, but it kind of works, because if he was like Angelus, those geeks would be right. Because he was technically my Sire, as well as Dru, they both had rights to my body, and neither of them would turn down a free fuck. So first I loved him, then I school myself to dislike him for what he does to me, then he leaves, and when he comes back he only wants to take Dru from me.  
  
"Then he goes back to wanting forgiveness, and I just can't give that. But paradoxically, I still want him to care, to say, "well done, boy," like he used to, to be the Angelus I loved, and tell me that I'm doing well, I'm doing the right things." My throat suddenly constricts on the final sentence, and I decided that now is a really great time to shut up.  
  
Why do I feel this confused? Why, for that matter, have I just broken down and cried in front of Willow? (Not like I haven't done that before, but still.) Some of it is this soul, the extra intensity of feeling which I am learning to cope with again- I have definitely got a poet's soul, William's or not- but there is something else. Something is wrong, but I can't pin down just what.  
  
I am distracted from what I can only call my brooding when Dru comes back in.  
  
"That was Giles outside," she says, quietly, surprising sane, "He got worried when you ran out on him like that."  
  
"Yeah, well, bugger always worries, doesn't he."  
  
"With reason," Willow adds, firmly. "I'd worry if Dru ran away from me, especially in broad daylight." They share a sappy smile at that.  
  
I restrain myself from heaving- barely- and say, "Well, his fault. He's the one who got all upset about me going to my Sire."  
  
"It may be his fault, but he'd like to make amends," Dru puts in. "I've told him he can come in, so we can make this right again. I don't like to see my Spike all teary."  
  
That's the last thing I need. I open my mouth, intending to bawl Dru out for it, but instead all I make is a low moan. I'm tired of this. My head aches from crying and thinking and whirling ideas that need sorting out. My body is still sore from the run through Sunnydale's sunny streets, and my heart aches because the last thing I wanted to do when I went to get this soul was hurt any of the people I love: Rupert most of all. Force (since we're on Wars anyway)- what did I do wrong?  
  
I let my head sag forward onto the table and shut my eyes.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Spike, are you okay?" Worried voices, but I can't bring myself to care. If I just ignore them, ignore Giles, ignore the world, it will all go away until I can get to Angel, be in my Sire's arms where everything is simple. Dru may be here, but it isn't the same- she wasn't in my dream at all.  
  
"Got to see Angel," I mutter. "He's going through this too."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Something strange is going on, Giles. The dream Spike had- it means something. A vampire is very close to their Sire- remember what Cordy told us about Darla and Angel? Well, I doubt Spike and Angel are that close, but there is a link there. I think you have to take him and talk to Alice, as soon as possible."  
  
"Are you telling me what to do, Willow Rosenberg?"  
  
"Yes, she is. And I'm agreeing. You have to sort it out between you and him and Angel, and you have to do it soon." Giles doesn't sound like he wants to argue with Dru, even if she is chipped now. Sensible man.  
  
I'm not really equip to deal with life yet- my brain just wants to slide into the murky go of sleep again- but I summon the energy to mummer, "Yes, with Angel," before I submit once more. 


	29. For better, for worse 2

Title: For better, for worse (2/3)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike  
  
Category: Angst, h/c, with mild silly moments.  
  
Timing: Post Season Six. Follows on from the season 4 AU establised in "In Sickness and In Health", contiued in two song fics and 'Perfect Romances' ('Buffy and Clem: the First Cuddle' and 'Party people'), not to mention 'Family Matters'.  
  
Summary: They're in love. Caring happens, romance begins, wackiness ensues.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is God, the Grr Argh monster is scary, I don't own any of them, and I promise I won't torture them with hot pokers or sell them into slavery.  
  
Ranguger:  
  
I don't know what's going on, but my mistress sounds worried. William is unwell, as Angel was yesterday, but Angel is fine today. They seemed to be connected, all the Childe. I fear it may have something to do with the Calling, and the fact that she used mugwort not hen's bane. I was going to warn her, but the voice in my head said it had to happen like that.  
  
Nobody tells me what's really going on. They are standing there now, them as are awake. Steven, Xander and the blond vampire he's with- Harmony- are all still abed. Mind you, these Calfornia types would probably sleep through an earthquake. Some of them have, I dare say.  
  
I try and listen, but my English isn't as good as it could be, and I don't understand all of what I hear.  
  
"Clearly most of us need some more rest." That's Buffy, the Slayer, speaking.  
  
"Hear, hear," another voice yawns- Willow, quickly backed up by Drusilla and, I'm glad to note, Lady Alice. I don't want to have to bully her into some more rest.  
  
"But first, some ideas. I think a spell might help William, and sooner rather than later: I fear this may be passed on round the group."  
  
A slight noise- William sitting up. "I'm starting to feel better, actually," he says. "Couldn't tell you why, to be honest." William? Honest? Well, since he got his soul I guess they might not be contradictions.  
  
"It may be linked to something someone else out there is doing," Willow volentuers. "Some spells involving certain sorts of power make people who are sensitve of exposed feel terrible when you do them, or prepare them."  
  
"Of course, there's no way to track down what it might be, without another lead." My mistress again. She'll call for me soon. "Rangy!" There, see.  
  
I enter the room. "Bed once more, Rangy," she tells me. My attention is mostly taken up in lifting her, but I notice that most of the rest depart.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Giles:  
  
We've been alone down here, me, William, Angel and Cordlia, for over two hours now. The tension has been building up ever since the others left, headed back to bed, and now the two vampires have just moved from harmless weapons practice to something meant to be a practice but with all the undertones of a real fight.  
  
As William pulls his fist back for the first punch, I pull Cordelia back into the shelter of their office. There's no way I'm missing this, but I don't want anyone to get hurt.  
  
Angel blocks the first blow, and ducks to get in a low jab towards William's stomach. He dances back, and pulls his Sire into a headlock, which Angel easily escapes.  
  
There is a beauty to the fight, more easily appreciated by those who are aware that both Willam and Angel are holding back a little, both now ensouled and truly unwilling to really hurt one of their 'family'. It is slightly noticeable in the fact that neither of them goes into game face, seemingly wanted to wait for the other one to give into the demon first.  
  
Cordelia stays quiet beside me, and the only sounds are the groans of effort and pain the vampires produce. They fight smoothly, fitting togther eerily well. After ten minutes or so, Angel has William trapped under him on the ground, and asks, "So why are you here, again?"  
  
"For this," William grunts, and bends his knees, pushing his hips forward to stand up, taking the darker vampire with him. They struggle again, William's smaller form matching Angel's larger one because he has rested for a while, and Angel has been working, reserch and sword sharpening taking their toll.  
  
In another few minutes they have reached a stalemate. Neither can move enough to effectivly hurt the other, but neither has quite won or lost. Somewhere, in another room, a telephone rings, but we all ignore it. The freeze holds for seconds, a frightneing stillness about them, and I can't breathe until William goes for the shock tactic.  
  
He relaxes, but the moment Angel decides he has won and move away, Will snakes his arm up and throws Angel over his shoulder and down. Angel has just enough presence of mind to pull William down with him, and they end up on the floor, rolling over and over. When they are stopped by a handy wall, William is on top. He has shifted into game face during the last few seconds, as has Angel, but they both shift out again before they speak.  
  
"That's the best you can do?" William sneers. "I thought you were still a vampire, soul or not."  
  
"I am- and so are you, Childe. I know what's changed, now. You got cursed, didn't you?"  
  
"No. I got lucky."  
  
Angel manages to give the impression that he'd shrug if William wasn't pining his shoulders to the floor. "Different way of looking at the same thing. What happened? Willow get fed up with you?"  
  
"I went to Africa, passed the trials."  
  
"You did? I thought that was a myth."  
  
"You told me Slayers were a myth, too."  
  
"Well, I thought they were."  
  
"Didn't do you much good when you fell for one, did it?"  
  
"I had to change my opionon, certainly. Would you mind letting me get up?"  
  
William considers this. "Promise me something?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never turn into Angelus again."  
  
"I'll do my best."  
  
"Not good enough. Promise."  
  
"I promise to do my best- it's not exactly under my control, you know."  
  
Cordelia seems to be having a hard time dealing with what she's hearing. "Hold on, here. Spike has a soul now, one he went to get."  
  
William seems to have accepted Angel's promise for the time being, and stands. "Yes," he says to Cordelia, in his best I'm-trying-very-hard-to-be- patient voice. "I have a soul."  
  
"And you're called William."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you're dating Giles."  
  
"Yes," William says, still as patient as he can be. Angel is caught by the last part. He got up more slowly, and is currently standing, frowning at William. I move to stand next to my- boyfriend? lover? -as he says, "Problem, ya great poof?"  
  
"Technically- and correct me if I'm wrong here- if I'm dating a woman and you're dating a man, that would make you the poof, Childe."  
  
"Yeah, well, you know who's fault that is, don't you, Sire?"  
  
Cordelia is getting rapidly more exasperated with them, and she bursts out: "Can you two stop bitching? I can't think of any real girls worse than you, and that's very disturbing."  
  
They turn to look at her, every inch the killing team they must have been a century ago. "What?" Cordelia demands. "A girl can't say what she means, now?"  
  
William looks decidedly like he'd kill her if the chip would let him, and when I see an answering flash on Angel's face, I know something has to be done before one of them stakes the other- it just seems that neither Cordelia nor I knows what. 


	30. For better, for worse 3

Title: For better, for worse (3/3)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Fred/Gunn, Angel/Cordelia  
  
Category: Angst, h/c, with mild silly moments.  
  
Timing: Post Season Six. Follows on from the season 4 AU establised in "In Sickness and In Health", contiued in two song fics and 'Perfect Romances' ('Buffy and Clem: the First Cuddle' and 'Party people') not to mention 'Family Matters'.  
  
Summary: They're in love. Caring happens, romance begins, wackiness ensues.  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is God, the Grr Argh monster is scary, I don't own any of them, and I promise I won't torture them with hot pokers or sell them into slavery.  
  
Giles:  
  
We are distracted from making by Gunn and Fred, rushing down the stairs. "That was Lorne on the phone," he says, rushing for a cupboard which I guess contains weapons.  
  
"He's got some reading from a friend of his, something big's going down tonight, somewhere in Hollywood- ritual to raise the dead, I think."  
  
"Right." Angel moves smoothly into action, collecting a sword- quite an antique one, I observe, and well cared for- and pulling a book or two off the shelf. He flicks through, but when I see that he isn't finding what he's looking for, I move forward.  
  
"Can I help?"  
  
"Yes- if you like. Rituals to raise the dead, methods, purpose, anything you can give us."  
  
"Fine." I reach for Larcho's Necromancy Chronicle, the ultimate book on the subject, wondering briefly why Angel didn't take it, but then I realise that he probably doesn't read Etruscan.  
  
William takes out a volume on rituals that require a certain date, to see if this one cn be found by the time it is happening, and smiles when I glance up to see what he is doing. I take that as a cue that whatever else, he is willing to set aside his fight with Angel, still unresolved, to help him- or to let me help, anyway.  
  
Angel's copy of Larcho is in better condition than mine, and when you aren't trying to find pages that keep drifting down to the floor it's much easier to read a book. It's William who finds something useful first, though.  
  
"How's this? If called upon on the night of a new moon, like tonight, the demon Yarc will raise from the dead any person named, in return for the still-beating heart of a child."  
  
"That sound hopeful," I say, rapidly trying to find Yarc in Larcho's book. He spelt it in Etruscan, though, and I fumble for a second to find the entry. "Yes- 'Yarc can'- or maybe 'is'- 'the returner of lost lives, trading the heart and life of a child for the heart and life of the one whom the summoner names.' That seems pretty clear."  
  
"Then let's go. We have a child to save and a resurecttion to prevent," Angel says, and marches out the door.  
  
"We won't all fit in one car," Fred comments, and Angel turns back briefly.  
  
"Three units," he orders- where did he get that 'command' tone from? "Cordelia and I in my car, Fred and Gunn in Gunn's truck, and Giles and Spike in the car they came in. Okay?"  
  
"Okay," we echo, and then we really are off. I let Spike drive, for some reason, and it isn't long before we have lost the others, taking some short cut or other.  
  
"William, where are we going?"  
  
"To find this ritual."  
  
"Do you actually know where we are?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We're lost, aren't we?"  
  
"No- we're right here."  
  
"Do you know where to go?"  
  
"Look, Rupert- I know LA. I can find my way."  
  
"So where are we?"  
  
"In LA- read the bloody signposts."  
  
"You don't know where we are, do you?"  
  
"I told you- we're here." A pause. "But they do seem to have moved some things since I was here last."  
  
"So you don't know where we are?"  
  
"Only in gener- I know now- we've arrived!" Ahead, I can see candle flames in a window, and the flickers of green light that suggest a magical working. All we can hope is that the others find it, too.  
  
I am just about to get out of the car when William says, "Turn left from there, then and stright on down the hill. yeah. No- the third alleyway."  
  
"What?"  
  
He looks at me. "Turns out Cordelia gets telepathy as part of her demon deal. Being as I'm a vampire, she can hear what I say aloud- you know the drill, like Red used to do."  
  
"Oh." I say. What else is there? "So the backup was there all along?"  
  
"No, she's only jus." Something on my face causes him to change direction. Human William must have been an unscruplus youth- even with a soul, he lies well and easily. He'd call it 'poetic licence' I expect. "Yeah, she could've reached us anytime. The lost thing was just a game- here they are." William pats my arm reassuringly, and indeed, Angel's convertible and Gunn's truck have just appeared at the end of the alley. they park behind us and we all pile out for a confrence. More accuratly, we all pile out to listen to Angel give orders.  
  
"Fred, Gunn, Cordy, I want you to go round the building, guard any exits you find. We can't be sure they don't have a sewer entrance, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. Spike."  
  
"William."  
  
"and I are the main attack team. Giles, your job is to find the child and get them out alive. Spike, please remember that the child is our main objective. Everyone clear?"  
  
"Yes," we chorus, apart from my lover, who mutters, "William, ya great poof."  
  
Angel looks at him askance, but evidently decides not to take up the challenge at this point. "Let's go, then."  
  
When the battle is over, we split up- Fred and Gunn to take a terrified nine-year-old boy home, and to go home themselves; and the rest of us back to the hotelto get a little more rest. Cordelia makes the claim that she's always wanted to ride in my car, so William- ever the gentleman- offers to swap with her. I don't know what he and Angel said to each other on that drive, but when we get back to the hotel I am nearly asleep on my feet and the two vampires seemed to have reached a truce.  
  
We go upstairs to bed, having said ourgoodnights to Angel and Cordelia. William is full of nervous energy, bouncing like AA Milne's Tigger- or to use a simile closer to home, like Xander on a sugar and caffine high.  
  
I pop out of the room briefly- just to use the bathroom- and when I return, dressing-gown clad, William is sprawled wantonly across the bed, naked, the only light the one bedside lamp that here, as at home, we will leave on all night. Crossing to the bed, I lean over and kiss him gently before turning my back on him and settling down to sleep.  
  
"Don't you want to." he whines.  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh, Rupert, you spoil-sport, don't you love me any more? Angel goes and tells me what a wonderful relationship he and the cheerleader are having- they've got to the silly nicknames stage, apparently- and now you won't let me have any. Well, I guess I could give you a nickname or two.."  
  
"William," I half-growl, "Shut up."  
  
"Make me. Let's see- Ripper doesn't really suit you any more; poof is kind of a given; we might get somewhere with Rupert. If I remember rightly, it's an anglosized version of Robert- so: Rob- Rup, Robbie becomes Rupee- sounds like Indian money. yeah, I like that. Rupee. This is my lover, Rupee. Rupee, my big teddy bear. Rupee, my snugglemuffin."  
  
I roll over to face him, exasperated. "William, did you take lessons from Harmony on this method of getting you end away? Be so annoying that people let you shag them just to shut you up?"  
  
"Could be," he says, miscehivousely. "Does it work?" His hands are creeping over me as he speaks, and given where they are I think I can be forgiven for only producing a gasp in reply.  
  
"Seems it does," he say, thoughtfully, and then adds, "Well then, I'd better keep going."  
  
Tired as I am, my mind fails to find any arguments, and I push forward into his touch. He smiles, blue eyes twinkling. I wonder briefly if Ethan found me this easy to manipulate. Jenny did, I know that much. 


	31. Networking 1: Death

Title: Networking, part 1: Death  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Buffy/Clem, etc.  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings: original character death  
  
Author Notes: My Mary-Sue gets even more unusual, possibly passing out of the realms of Mary-Suehood.  
  
Story Notes: None.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
Giles:  
  
What's that? Someone singing? Yes, it's William. He's in the shower. Heaven only knows why he sings in the shower, but he does.  
  
"William, shut up!" I yell, trying to roll my face out of the pillow so that he stands a chance of hearing me. There is a green demon with small red horns looking at me.  
  
"Don't be so wound up, book guy," the apparition says. I think it's that chap Anya was with at Willow's party. What was his name?  
  
"The name's Lorne," it tells me. "Your boyfriend has a great voice. You should be encourging him, not."  
  
"Telling me to shut up?" William asks. He's apperntly finished his shower and come back into the bedroom, still blatently {beautifully} naked.  
  
"Yeah, something like that," Lorne replies.  
  
"Oh, I know he doesn't mean it. What are you doing here, anyway, green guy?"  
  
"Oh, just stopped by. The door was open, so."  
  
"So you can get out again."  
  
"I suppose I could. Do you want me to?"  
  
"Yes. You're with Anya, aren't you?"  
  
"That's right. She wanted to stop by, see how Cordelia was. I don't know what's going on there, by the way. I think Angel and Cordelia were almost a couple, but then Anya wants to come and see Cordy, and I start getting all these vibes off her."  
  
"You mean you think Cordy and Anya might be 'together'? There's a thought."  
  
"Don't I just know it? Hey- when you were talking about Angel at that party in Sunnyhell, you started to get all, grr."  
  
What's my William doing still standing around naked? I don't like it. "William?" I say. "Cuddle?"  
  
He slips into bed beside me, but goes on talking to Lorne. "You've got a crush on my Sire, haven't you? Perhaps you could make up a foursome."  
  
"I can't see Angel going along with that, sweetpea. nice pisture, though."  
  
"I dunno about Angel, but Angelus liked it. Me, Dru, Darla, him. We were a right fearsome fangy foursome. And try saying that when you're drunk."  
  
"I'm sure you've tried it," I tell William.  
  
"That I have."  
  
I run my hands up his body, under the bedclothes, hoping he'll get the message- quality time required here!  
  
If he gets it, he doesn't have time to respond. Lorne gets the message. "Well, I'll leave you two happy campers alone, then." He leaves. Thank goodness!  
  
"What something, pet?" William asks. I nearly answer, but then decide that pulling his face down into a firm kiss is proably a better method of telling him, Anya-style- sex! Now! Who says retired librarians can't have appitites?  
  
William:  
  
Someone wakes me from my post-cotial doze with a gentle knock on the door. I manage to escape Rupert's embrace without him stirring, and go to answer, to find that the damned blue-skin has woken me.  
  
"My mistress requires- nay, she said she requests- the presence of all the members of the Order, directly."  
  
I stifle a groan, but nod. "I'll come."  
  
The messenger pauses, looking at me. "Um, sir, my lady also mentioned something about a group photograph. I wouldn't wager she wasn't joking."  
  
Moments of perfect happiness must slow my brain, because it's a couple of seconds before I realise that he means I might want to get dressed.  
  
"Oh. Um, yeah, I'll be along in a moment. Where's she want us?"  
  
"The ballroom, sir. I shall inform her you are on ou way."  
  
"Good. Thanks."  
  
I shut the door and set about dressing as quietly as possible. Not the suit Rupert likes- too slow. Casual cotton trouser, not jeans but nearly- they'll do. T-shirt over my head, red silk shirt because it feels good, and I'm ready.  
  
I put a note for Rupert when he does wake up, and hurry along the corridor.  
  
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////////  
  
The ballroom looks quite full, though there can't be more than six people in it. When all of them are vampires, it only takes three, sometimes only two, to make a whole town crakle with tension.  
  
"Hey," I say, and they all look round at me, Alice from her bed, the rest from chairs pulled up to form a circle around her. I look right back. Of all this lot, most of them souled now, I'm the only one who got his soul of his own free will. That has to count for something in the big stakes.  
  
"Ah, William. I think we're all here now. Rangy, you may leave." He bows and does so. Alice continues, "I think we most know who everyone is, but it would be as well to check before we move on to the main business of the day. Even I'm getting a little confused."  
  
General nods, especially from the Master- Heinriech. I think it's probably time I dropped some of the old speech patterns.  
  
"We'll use the old Sire-Childe naming pattern- but in English, I guess. I think some of you would be confused if we tried it in Latin, as it was written." She smiles a little, at some private joke or memory, and goes on, almost chanting, "My name is Alice, Childe of Aurelius, and in 1397 I turned Heinriech, my Favoured Childe."  
  
Seemingly soothed by the chanting sound of her vioce, the wild-eyed Heiriech- who is, I notice, quite handsome now he's got rid of bat-face- contiues, "My name is Heinriech Joseph Nest, and in 1609 I turned Ruth, my Favoured Childe."  
  
"My name is Darla, and in 1753 I tunred Angelus, my Favoured Childe."  
  
"My name is Angel, and in 1860 I turned Drusilla, my Favoured Chjilde."  
  
"My name is Dru, and in 1880 I turned Spike, my pretty baby."  
  
"My name is William, and I'll take Harmony as my favoured." What on earth did you go and say that for? Idiot. Angelus was right about you- you're a fool, and idiot, and such like words, even in Gaelic. You only noticed that the girl was here a moment ago.  
  
"My name is Harmony, and I'm so pleased my blondie bear'll have me!" She can't be worse than Dru, I guess.  
  
The family- even Ice-Queen Darla- all smile at that. "Good," Alice says, and if she keeps smiling like that I may have to kill her. Thankfully, she decides it's time we got down to the main issue of the meeting.  
  
"Now, I've called you here this afternoon because there are some important things we need to discuss, namely: one, why we are here; two, what we're going to do next; and three, how we're going to go about it. As I see it, I can mostly tell you the answers to one, where you don't know them already, because my visions have given me some idea what the Powers are after from us; I can help you discuss two, but three is for you to decide, pretty much without help. Is everyone happy with that?"  
  
We nod. What else can we do?  
  
"Good. My visions lead me to believe that you have all been brought here for a reason. All of us, by reason of souls, chips or simple strong will, are restrained from killing at least some beings. Am I right?"  
  
I didn't know Harmony had any such impediment, but I see her nod along with the rest of us, so I guess she's decided not to eat people, or something. I don't see it lasting long.  
  
"I feel that the Powers want the Order of Auelius to come to something. Not what my Sire intended, fires of Hell comfort him, but something powerful- something ultimatly good. The prophercies interweave, and they still stand."  
  
"Even the tale of the Annotied One?" Heinreich asks.  
  
"Yes. The Nyazine scrolls have been translated many times, but my study of them leads me to believe that the son mentioned there, killed by his father but surviving by miraclous means, is our new Annointed. We must, I think, put much of our energies into finding this one."  
  
"The son mentioned in the Nyazinan scrolls?" Angel asks.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"The child who will not be born by normal means?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I know- it's Connor."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Steven- my son. Wesley thought that I was going to kill him, that's why he kidnapped him, but then Hotlz got him. and can I just ask- Darla, I thought you were dead?"  
  
"I was. In this reality. But when Alice put out the Call, it called Heinriech and me from a parralel universe, created by Anyanka."  
  
"Oh. Anyway, does this mean Steven is the Annointed one?"  
  
"I think you're right- but the father in question must be Hotlz. Taking a baby to a hell dimension would count as killing him in the symbolic language of prophercy, and yet he has survived and come back to the land of the living, this reality. It does make sense."  
  
"So what's our purpose here?"  
  
"We've got to protect the Annointed One, and his counterpart, the Key. That's dawn Summers, for those of you who don't know, the Slayer's younger sister. When the time comes, both of them will be needed, and there are many forces out there who would want to attack and kill them. Our purpose- nay, your purpose, for my job is done when I've relayed this message- is to protect them both, aiding the Slayer, and forming a network which will be able to assist what we might as well refer to as the children, Dawn and Steven, in their tasks."  
  
Speaking has made her out of breath, and now she lies back, eyes closed, panting slightly.  
  
"So what do we do?" Darla asks.  
  
"You must help. Take orders. Research. Use the visions." She folds her hands neatly on her breast, as if preparing to pray.  
  
"What visions?" someone says. We are all leaning forward now to catch her faint voice.  
  
"You'll see- stay calm. Childe, be good." her breathing slows, and for a moment I take it for a good sign. Then I notice that there is no heartbeat either. Dru leans against me.  
  
"She's leaving us," she says, sadly. "Grandmum has just come, but now she's leaving again. So soon?"  
  
I hold her to me, and can say nothing. Someone calls for Ranguger. All I can think is, "She's dead. Who can help me now, with Rupert, with everything?"  
  
"She's gone," Ranguger says, softly. "She thought she might. Last night, she said something about now all the Childer were here she could finish her job." There are tears in his eyes. "You'd better tell the others. Even Wesley. We'll need help with the scrolls soon."  
  
I see blackness in front of my eyes, and I slip into it. 


	32. Networking 2: From the Ashes

Title: Networking, part 2: From the ashes  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Buffy/Clem, etc.  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings:  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Story Notes: One joke in here was borrrowed from As Time Goes By's Jean and  
  
Lionel. Can you spot it?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
William:  
  
When I wake, we are in the car, heading- and even I'm not sure how I know this- for Sunnydale. It is evening, ten or fifteen minutes before sunset.  
  
"Rupert?" I ask. I haven't opened my eyes, but it smells like Rupert: cocoa, dust, and a tang of stale alcohol.  
  
"It's me, William. I don't know why, but we're going to Sunnydale, so we can get this, whatever it is, sorted out."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"How are you? There's a bag of blood in the boot- if you like, we can stop and you can have it."  
  
"No. Keep driving."  
  
"Okay."  
  
There is silence again, and I am drifting back towards sleep, when he asks, "What were you dreaming? You keep muttering something about England and books."  
  
"Um- could you give me a detailed update?" I want to know what's going on and how much Rupert knows before I start telling him how I dreamt something about going back to England to search the watcher's library for volumes that mention Steven.  
  
I think I know roughly what our mission is, and certainly what Alice meant about visions, but I can't exactly rush stright into that. I'm glad she told me what she did about the ritual for turning a vampire and letting them keep their soul- it means I feel I have literally all the time in the world with Rupert.  
  
"We're all- me, you, Angel, Fred, Gunn, Steven, Cordelia, Wesley, Buffy, Willow, Dru, Xander, Harmony, Lorne, whoever else, I've lost track. Ranguger's stayed behind to bury his mistress' body as she desired. The rest of us are all going to Sunnydale, because Buffy says Clem and Dawn have to be involved in the planning for our next step. I think Steven doesn't know he's the Annointed One, or at least, Buffy's telling him on the way. Speed seems to be of the essence."  
  
"Indeed. I think I had one of the visions Alice mentioned, that'd what my dream was. We're going to be part of the research team, maybe working with the Watchers."  
  
Rupert doesn't look happy about that- I can't see why. He just goes on driving, staring at the road.  
  
"You okay, pet?" I ask lightly, wanting to know but trying to keep my emotions in check.  
  
"I'm fine," he says. We keep on rushing along the dark streets towards Sunnyhell, and I notice that I can see Angel's car in the rear view mirror. He doesn't look happy either.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Everyone here?" Buffy asks, and I realise that Alice must have been given some Slayer power, somehow. They are just so alike, so commanding, so. bad William. It's thoughts like that which get you into fights you have to win or run away from.  
  
She's apperently decided we are. We've been squashed into the Summers' front room, all fifteen of us. "At the moment," she tells us, "I see five things that need doing. Dawn needs guarding, Steven needs guarding," from her expression, she notices their twin muntianous looks at this, but carries on regardless, "Research needs doing, and the places we think things might start happening need guarding- that's LA and Sunnydale. Can anyone think of anything else we need to cover?"  
  
Met with an absense of suggestions, she goes on. "I'm told I'm in charge of this operation, so I'm assigning tasks as follows. Dawn and Steven take some responsibility for their own safety, and Clem and I help Dawn. Steven, do you have any opion about who you want to help you?"  
  
"No demons," the lad says. He still looks overwhelmed by the number of people, and more than a little scared. If he's lucky, Buffy'll give him someone he knows already.  
  
"How about Fred and Gunn?" she asks.  
  
He considers this. "Okay."  
  
"Right- Fred, Gunn, you're with Steven. We'll talk about where you go in a minute. I think some of the books we need are in England, so I need you to get on that, Giles, with Spike to help you. You're in charge of research- anyone who finds anything, get in touch with Giles. Wesley, you seem to know your way around the scrolls, so I want you to work on that as your main priority. Angel, you've pretty much got charge of LA, and I'm hoping that between four- Xander, Willow, Harmony, Drusilla- Sunnydale won't need me."  
  
The green guy- Lorne- pipes up. "What about me and Anya? We want to help, too."  
  
The cheerleader echos him. "And me. New found demon skills must be a help."  
  
"Yeah- I want you, all three of you, to help Angel. If something big goes down in LA, telepathy might come in handy. We're going to have to spilt up, but I want everyone to keep in touch. It's phone calls and e-mails every day, right?"  
  
"Are we leaving Sunnydale, then?" Nibblet asks.  
  
"Not yet, Dawnie. I think we'll wait quietly until we know someone has wind of where we are. There's no point attrating attention to ourselves by rushing madly around. We'll keep you and Steven separate for the most part, though, so as not to make it easy for anyone who wants to kill both of you."  
  
"Some of the books we're going to need are in England," I tell her. Rupert looks exhausted.  
  
"Right. You and Giles should probably go back there fairly soon, then. Maybe Steven could go with you- if he and Gunn and Fred went to England, it wouild make a good starting point for some travels."  
  
"I've got two return tickets for tomorrow night," I recall suddenly. "They'd slipped my mind, but two of us could travel then, and there might still be other tickets available."  
  
"I'd want to go back to LA before we flew out," Gunn says. "There's some stuff there I oughta finish."  
  
"If you went back to LA with Angel and Cordy tomorrow, then took Steven out to England in a few days time?"  
  
"Yeah, that's cool."  
  
"Are we all clear then? Who haven't I told what to do?" She spins round slowly, pointing at every member of our little Happy Family. "Dawn, Clem, Xander, Harmony, Drusilla, Willow, with me, here; Angel, Cordelia, Lorne, Anya, Wesley, to LA, to look after the city and into the books; Giles and Spike to England; Fred and Gunn with Steven, to LA in a day or two, then England after that, then on to wherever. We can use you three as a roving band, following up any leads we get. Okay. Now it's time for most of you to go to bed and me to patrol. Goodnight all."  
  
I'm not sure why she dragged us all down here, only to send most of us back to LA or away again, but I can't really be bothered to question her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Not great at conversation in bed, are we?"  
  
"We could do something else," I leer.  
  
"Not now- and this time I mean that."  
  
"Is something the matter, love?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
"Well, you don't seem too keen to get back to England."  
  
"I guess I'm not. All these developments are kind of turning my life upside down."  
  
I slide a little further down under the blankets, getting comfortable, before I speak again. "I know what you mean. Before the Call, we were getting into a sort of routine, helping people out, solving what mysteries we could. Now, we've got a mission, something big to do, and we've got to try and go back to where we were, but fit that in as well."  
  
"I guess it gives us a measure of insight into how a Slayer feels when she's called. I never dreamed it could be this.unsettling."  
  
"It isn't exactly comfortable, is it?"  
  
"No. And I've got to change my whole mindset."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
He seems reluctant to answer, fighting one of those internal battles I used to see back in Bath. "Nothing major," he says after a while, and rolls over so that he's facing away from me.  
  
I move up onto my elbows and look down at his face, the face I've fallen in love with, every line, every blemish, every wonderful square inch. "It didn't sound like 'nothing', pet."  
  
Another stuggle. "Alice," he tells me, finally. "I've spent the past- what, nearly nine months- looking for Alice Malone, because I thought she could help Willow with the magic addiction. I was told she was living quietly in England. When I find her, she's in LA, and she dies before I can ask her."  
  
There is silence for a moment while I digest that information. That's what he was really after- Alice. He wanted to help Willow, so he looked for Alice- which makes a kind of sense, if he'd heard of her- but he couldn't find her. "Is that the mission, the one you wouldn't tell me about, the one you obssesed over, the one you had nightmares about?" I ask, eventually.  
  
Quietly, "Yes."  
  
"Oh, love. I'm sorry. But she has helped Willow- Drusilla is much nearer sane than I've ever seen her, and Willow's drawing a lot of strength from helping her."  
  
"You said Alice had vision, didn't you, knew almost everything that was going on?"  
  
"That's right. It could be she knew. She was only part human- perhaps it was her demon side's idea of ironic."  
  
"If it had a sense of humor anything like yours, that's quite likely."  
  
I have to laugh at that, and he opens his eyes again. I feel I could sink into them, their swirls of grey tinged brown and the little uneven patch in the left one. "I love you," I tell him. "We'll get through this if we stick together."  
  
"By the way," he says then, seriously, but I can see he's laughing somewhere behind his eyes, "What on earth possesed Buffy to assign you to help me with research? I wasn't aware she knew you could read, let alone anything else."  
  
"I think Angel may have told her some of what I told you, about being a poet beofre Dru met me. She certainly knows more than I told her directly. Maybe she worked it out- after all, I am pretty good with the books, even if I say so as shouldn't."  
  
"You definatly shouldn't," and he can hardly restrain the smile now. "I can, though- you've very clever, and I love you."  
  
I lean down a little. Before I know it, we're kissing. Life looks sweeter when you're kissing the man you love. 


	33. Networking Interlude: Moody Blue

Title: Networking Interlude: Songfic "Moody Blue" (Between parts 2 and 3)  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Buffy/Clem, etc.  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings:  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Story Notes:  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
William:  
  
Now I know why Buffy wanted us all together for a bit longer- we're all rather down at the mouth, to put it mildly. Alice made a big impact on us in the few short days she was with us, and that's going to take a long time to wear off.  
  
I don't know when I got roped into washing up, but that's what I'm doing. Drying the plates while Red washes them. "She's like that song, isn't she?" the witch says.  
  
"Err." I wasn't really listening- or maybe she didn't say anything as a prelude. I don't know.  
  
"Drusilla. She's like the Elvis song, about Moody Blue."  
  
"Oh. Yeah, I guess she is. How's it go?" Willow thinks for a moment, and then starts to sing, softly. She has a beautiful voice really- and once more, I'm struck by how much I could fancy her if I had the opportunity. I'm glad Dru's found her pleasures in such a place, one of the few actions of my immediate Sire's I can understand.  
  
"Well, it's hard to be a gambler  
  
Bettin' on the number  
  
That changes ev'ry time"  
  
That's true enough. Dru is unpredictable like that.  
  
"Well, you think you're gonna win  
  
Think she's givin' in  
  
A stranger's all you find"  
  
Heaven knows I found a strange in Dru's head often enough. I was never sure, day to day, just who she was.  
  
"Yeah, it's hard to figure out  
  
What she's all about  
  
That she's a woman through and through  
  
She's a complicated lady, so color my baby moody blue,"  
  
Perhaps that was my trouble with her. I'm not a woman, however much I have mood swings. Poor dear, I sometimes suspect that Angelus turned Dru while she was suffering from whatjamacallit, um, PMT, and she's got it for the rest of entrnity. I saw my sisters in that kind of mood occassionally, though mostly once they got to that age they were good Victorian ladies and hid it carefully.  
  
"Oh, Moody blue  
  
Tell me am I gettin' through  
  
I keep hangin' on  
  
Try to learn the song  
  
But I never do"  
  
I wonder if Willow will learn it. I hope she does. I know the next verse, and join in with her, enjoying the act of singing with a friend as well as the song.  
  
Willow:  
  
"Oh, Moody blue,  
  
Tell me who I'm talkin' to  
  
You're like the night and day  
  
And it's hard to say  
  
Which one is you."  
  
I'm singing with Spike. William. Whatever. About Drusilla, because- and this freaks me out more than Spike does- I'm falling in love with her. I guess it's okay, I'm hardly the first resident of Sunnydale to fall for a vampire, but it's still scary.  
  
"Well, when Monday comes she's Tuesday,  
  
When Tuesday comes she's Wednesday,  
  
Into another day again"  
  
I never know where I am with her- except when she's kissing me. Then I know I want to be with her forever. Her visions, her magic, her whole personality- she has mood swings the size of California. Sometimes I think she has permanent PMT. It would explain the behaviour.  
  
"Her personality unwinds  
  
Just like a ball of twine  
  
On a spool that never ends  
  
Just when I think I know her well  
  
Her emotions reveal,  
  
She's not the person that  
  
I though I knew  
  
She's a complicated lady, so color my baby moody blue,"  
  
My baby. Yes, I guess I have started thinking of her that way. Blue isn't really her colour, she looks better in red, but she looks even better naked. Oh damn! Did I really just think that?  
  
"Oh, Moody blue  
  
Tell me am I gettin' through  
  
I keep hangin' on  
  
Try to learn the song  
  
But I never do"  
  
Is that true? Will I never learn the song? Maybe I can just keep miming to the words, and she won't notice. Spike kept it up for nearly a hundred years, after all. I must be able to do the same thing if I try.  
  
"Oh, Moody blue,  
  
Tell me who I'm talkin' to  
  
You're like the night and day  
  
And it's hard to say  
  
Which one is you."  
  
I hope I learn. I've got to try- I love her.  
  
"It's very apt for her, isn't it?" William says, bringing me out of my revive.  
  
"Yes. Spike, how did you manage to keep her?"  
  
"How do you mean? I lost her, pet."  
  
"I know she left you because of, well, whatever it was."  
  
"Giles. And Buffy."  
  
"Yeah. But anyway, she left you, but not for a hundred years or so. How did you keep her that long, with all the mood swings and stuff?"  
  
"I gave her what she wanted. She chose me, rather than the other way round, remember. I just did what she told me to, what I had to. When Angelus left, I tried to give her what he gave her, too."  
  
I guess I must put eww-face on, because he smiles. "I don't think that's what she's looking for from you, luv. Though she'll let you know if she wants it, I dare say."  
  
"Right. Um, I think we're finished in here."  
  
"Everything seems to be washed and dried, so I'd have to agree."  
  
"Good." I'm not quite sure what to do next. She begins to move out of the kitchen, bit stops in the doorway for one final word.  
  
"By the way, I wish you two the best. I think she really does love you, and I'm glad to see her happy- and you, of course."  
  
What can I say to that? Only, "I love you, Dru," next time I see her. 


	34. Networking 3: Supernatural Blonds

Title: Networking, part 3: Supernatural Blonds  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Giles/Spike, Buffy/Clem, etc. Turning other ways, including conventional.  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings: Betrayal, kitten talk, milk drinking.  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Story Notes: Switches between Angel and Spike POV. Should be clearly marked.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
William:  
  
Willow turns away again, but is prevented from leaving because Clem is walking in.  
  
"Hey Clem," she says, "I was just about to come and talk to you." She has a curoius look on her face, an expression I've heard Xander refer to as 'resolve face'. Putting thoughts of Drusilla out of my mind, I watch carefully. This promises to be intresting.  
  
"Oh. I was just coming for a glass of milk," Clem tells her. She lets him past, and steps into the kitchen again.  
  
"You love Buffy, don't you?" Willow asks him.  
  
"Yes." My old friend Clem has his poker face on, not letting anyone see his reactions to this line of questioning. he puts the milk carton down, and looks Willow stright in the eye. Brave- and foolish- demon that he is.  
  
"You won't hurt her?"  
  
"Never."  
  
"You won't leave town?"  
  
"Not unless she comes with me."  
  
"You won't go off at all?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You know that if you hurt her, I will beat you to death."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend."  
  
Willow pours herself a drink from the milk carton Clem has put down, and leans against the counter.  
  
"How is Miss Kitty Fantasico?" Clem asks.  
  
Angel:  
  
I'm glad Buffy kept us together a little longer, because Alice- however short our aquaitance- has had quite an emotional effect on me. The supprot of the newly brought together family is more than welcome, even if some of them- my Childer, my Sires- bring memories of past evils with them.  
  
When I woke this morning Darla had crept into my bed, lying next to me just as she used to do. her blond hair stewn across the pillow- and I was, well, none too comfortable with it. I think I didn't wake her when I crept out, but I'm not sure I care. I have enough troubles in my unlife without adding Darla to them.  
  
Downstairs, I steer clear of the kitchen where I can hear Willow and William- a strange pair if ever there was one- singing, or attempting to. Not that I can really comment. In the living room, I find Buffy, alone. She looks sad and confused.  
  
"Buffy? Are you alright?" I am aware, even as I walk over to her, that her very presence excites me.  
  
"Yeah. I'm just- confused."  
  
"Oh? What's confused you?" I sit down by her, fighting the urge to pull her into a hug.  
  
"All this stuff with Alice. I'm still not sure who she was, exactly. I mean, I know she was the Master's Sire, and the Childe of Aurelius, and all that. What I don't know is how she was connected to the key, and the Powers, and how she could be so sure about who Steven was."  
  
"I've been thinking about her too." How could I think about anyone else? "There are some stories in the family, Darla used to tell me them, back when."  
  
"A long time ago," Buffy interrupts. "Tell me the stories."  
  
"Well, I was always told that the Master regarded Aureilus himself as his Sire, but that always seemed to me odd, because vampires usually Sire Childer who are the opposite sex. Don't ask me why, but somehow the family line always goes like that, even if there are some other Childer who aren't part of it." I pause, thinkng of Penn, and Buffy nudges my leg.  
  
"Go on, story-guy."  
  
"Well, given that, it makes sense that Alice should be Heinreich's Sire, but clearly she disappeared before she could really Sire him, leaving him to Aurelius to 'bring up'."  
  
"Really Sire him?"  
  
"There are two levels of Siring- the simple turning, and another level, which creates favoured Childer. It involes teaching, telling the stories, showing how to survive, that kind of thing. Tales about the Slayer are usually only handed down to favoured Childer, for exampe."  
  
"So you were a real Sire to Spike, even though Dru turned him?"  
  
"Yes, but how do you arrive at that?"  
  
"He said you told him about the Slayer. And Xander said he called you Sire when you met in the school just before."  
  
"A long time ago," I tell her gently, repeating her formula for dismissing unhappy memories.  
  
"Yes." She smiles, and Powers, she's beautiful. Get on with story before you kiss her, Angel.  
  
"Alice must have been taken by the Powers to begin her role as a shaper of the future. She must have cast the spell that lets members of the order survive with soul and demon, and then gone into hiding and study. I guess Aurelius would have been trying to kill her, if he found out what she'd done, and Heinriech, too. Even his loyalty to his turning-Sire wouldn't keep him from obeying Aurelius, his teaching-Sire."  
  
"Right. She must have made her way to England, and helped ensure that the Watcher's Council stayed around. That's how Giles heard about her, just as a famous pyscic who helped the watchers."  
  
She nods, and I notice that there is still a shiny scar on her neck, where I bit her- what, four years ago? "Angel?"  
  
I hope my attraction doesn't show in my eyes. I'm meant to be in love with Cordelia now. Oh, God- how could I ever have thought that? She's pretty, but she's not Buffy. No-one else could ever be quite what I find in Buffy. "Yes?" Try not to add 'love'.  
  
"Do you really love Cordelia?"  
  
William's been working on the girl. He's been mystically injecting his intutuion until she can read my mind. "I.I.we." {You're not friends. You'll never be friends.} "I'm not sure," I admit. {Blood. Blood pounding inside you.} My blood's pounding alright, so hard that if my heart had to beat I think it would burst.  
  
"You're not sure?"  
  
"I think. I might still." I look away. I don't look into those green eyes.but I do, and they close. It's too late to stop now. We're kissing, her warm mouth smiling into my lips.  
  
William:  
  
This is just about to get even more intresting. I tune out Willow and Clem's cute conversation about kittens, and watch my teaching-Sire and the Slayer start to make out.  
  
"What you looking at, Spike?" the red head asks.  
  
"Oh, nothing. Would I look?" Might as well have some fun with this. I raise my voice a little. "It makes me want to heave." It makes me want to heave my great fat pig of a Sire off the girl and kiss her myself, but no need to let them know that.  
  
Clem turns to look into the living room, at the two making out on the sofa. Buffy has her back to us, and we can see Angel quite well. I hear Cordelia's high heels upstairs, and I'm glad I stuck around. Intresting doesn't begin to cover it.  
  
"Buffy!" Clem gasps.  
  
Willow reacts quickly. "Clothes fluke!" she yells, bravely attempting distraction. "Clem, um, Buffy was just about to..err, weren't you, Buffy? Buffy!"  
  
Angel:  
  
I hear Spike say, "It makes me want to heave," but I'm not sure if it's in the past or the present. Willow's yell of 'Clothes fluke!" has to be the present, though I don't know what it means. I guess it must have something to do with the girl in my arms.  
  
Oh, dear. I break the kiss and sigh, tears filling my eyes. Supernatural blonds will drive me to sucide one of these days.  
  
"Angel?" she whisphers. "I.I still love you."  
  
That's more than I can cope with. I smile at her, and scream.  
  
William:  
  
What the hell's going on? My Sire screams fit to wake the dead, leaps up from the sofa, and runs, out into- out into the daylight! I might hate him, but not that much.  
  
Luckily, my grey blanket is lying on the floor by the front door. I grab it- it won't really be big enough, but it's better then nothing. With a few clouds.  
  
It's hot outside, and I can't see anything, so I try something I've never done before. I Call him. The raised blood of Alice's Call is still warm in my vins and I feel his respond. He's burning up fast, but- got him!  
  
I rush him back inside, throw him on the floor, and start punching him, slapping out flames and punishing him. "Never, never, never, do that!" I yell, keeping time with my fists. "Never, never, never!"  
  
Buffy is by my side, pulling me off him, "It's alright, Spike. I.I wanted it."  
  
"Not that, luv," I snarl at her. "Running out into the daylight."  
  
"Oh." She lets me go, and I give him one last kick for good measure, then step back to let Clem at him. Clem- kitten eating idiot- doesn't seem intrested.  
  
"Buffy? You.wanted this?"  
  
"Yes. Oh, Clem, I'm sorry. I just don't know anymore!"  
  
She rushes upstairs, pushing past Cordelia on the way. "What's got her.oh, Angel! What happened?"  
  
She kneels at his side, looking like she's about to tend his poor burns. Can't have that.  
  
"He kissed Buffy," I say, smiling pleasently.  
  
"Yeah, that's right," my Sire agrees, sitting up on the floor. Is the bastard actually going to take the stick? But something's odd here. He's- changed. My dream! he's Angelus! "That's alright, isn't Cordy? We could maybe be a threesome? You, me, Slayer?" The grin confirms it. My Sire never grinned like that when he had a soul.  
  
"Cordy!" I yell. "My dream! He's Angelus!"  
  
She looks at me, shocked, and Angelus goes into game face. "That's right. Dream about me, did you now, Will?"  
  
Amadain! I open the door, intending to throw him out into the daylight. "Oh, no, you don't, William." He slams the door shut, and pushes me against it, holding me up in the stranglehold I know so well.  
  
Suddenly Giles is there, pulling Angelus back. "Time to pay for Jenny, vampire!" he snarls.  
  
Angelus drops me, hard, and swings round to face my lover. "Pay? I never pay, Watcher!"  
  
"Oh, I think you will." Rupert lifts something up above his head. It catches a sparkle in the light, and then he brings it down, smashing it on Angel's face.  
  
Angel screams once more, and collapses. Rupert offers me his hand.  
  
"Thanks, pet," I say. "All clear for a while?"  
  
"Yes. We'll have to check the binding on the spell, but I think we should now have permantant Angel."  
  
"What?" a female voice gasps from the satirs. Buffy must have heard the comontion and come down, flanked by Dawn, Harmony, Drusilla and Anya. Lorne, Wesley and Steven must still be asleep- I can see Phallic Symbol and Fred on the landing.  
  
"It's all over, Buffy. I'd like to know what sparked off the soul- loss, though."  
  
"He kissed me," she says, slowly.  
  
"Oh." Rupert looks over at me, and I give him a little smile. Thank goodness he'll never run off with my damned Sire- bad brain! Stop producing pictures like that! 


	35. Networking 4: Groin Worthy

Title: Networking, part 4: Groin Worthy  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Clem, Clem/Angel, etc. Turning other ways, including threesomes.  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings: mention of rape, nothing graphic.  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Story Notes: Switches between Angel and Clem POV. Speech in ordinary "speech marks", flashbacks in ((round brackets)), Clem's thoughts in {curly brackets} and Angel's thought's in [square brackets].  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
"Clem?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Look, I'm sorry. I wasn't. in control."  
  
"No. Buffy was. She wanted it. I can accept that."  
  
{I can see why, too. Not all demons are gay, but I've swung both ways before. Angel is attractive.}  
  
"I went with it."  
  
[What did Buffy see is this guy? He's wrinkly, and ugly, and when he smiles. he's attractive. Huh?]  
  
"You could hardly help it. I can't."  
  
{I think anyone who can resist Angel for long deserves an award.}  
  
"Maybe it's her Slayer power."  
  
[What am I thinking? Angelus might have have raped William, but only because. (( He's beautiful. Dru's brought this idiot home, and I'm finding him beautiful. Maybe the girl has taste. Perhaps I should.)) and oh, I did. So often, because he was beautiful. And so is Clem.]  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
{Don't be daft, Clem. Don't ask.}  
  
"What you said when you were Angelus? Did you mean it?"  
  
[Is Xander's hormone overdose infectious-no more pictures like that. None. Dear God, what did I say? Best to know the truth, I suppose.]  
  
"What about?"  
  
{You shouldn't have said it- but I have to know. It's such a downright great idea.}  
  
"About a threesome. You, me, her."  
  
[Classic Angelus. More bad pictures, too. Liam should never have- two fours are eight, three fours are twelve, four floors are a long way up, five floors are for having sex on. I'm two and a half centuaries old. I should have control of myself. I should not be.]  
  
"I might. Did you want me too?"  
  
{Yes? No? Don't just stand there, say something.}  
  
"Yes."  
  
[Yes! Control, Angel. Do not lean- but he's leaning and. kissing is bad.]  
  
{Vampire! Buffy! Bad! Umm.}  
  
[Good, actually. In a purely objective way. Very, very good.]  
  
{Good. She kissed him, I think we should have fair turns, and she did, with him, just once, and Giles said his soul would stick, and.}  
  
[If Buffy finds us. my trousers are already down. We'll just have to ask her to join in.]  
  
"Oh! Yes! More, please, don't stop." 


	36. Networking 5: Pretty Flowers

Title: Networking, part 5: Pretty Flowers  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Spike/Giles (William/Rupert), Buffy/Clem/Angel  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings: Character death (but only in a happy way)  
  
Author Notes: Any naughty picture produced by this fic are the product of your own imagination. I do not own copyright on them, nor do I want to see them. I'm quite happy with my own, thank you.  
  
Story Notes:  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
Three women (in a loose, demon encompassing sense of the term) are sitting round in one of the Summers bedrooms, talking about men, boys and such like.  
  
Anya: So Buffy went down to the cellar, and found Angel and Clem having sex, and they just invited her to join in?  
  
Harmony: And she said yes. So now they're all hitched up, or so Willow told me.  
  
Dru: Pretty witch say to me too. Angel and Clem all cuddled, with the Slayer as well. Lucky Daddy.  
  
Harmony: You fancy Clem?  
  
Dru: No, Slayer pretty. William all sparkly with little flowers.  
  
Anya: Yeah, he does seem happy with Giles. I'm happy for both of them- Spike's good at keeping Giles out of my way in the Magic Box. he takes him into the basement for orgasms often.  
  
Harmony: Funny he should end up happy with a guy, after all of us.  
  
Dru: Not really. Daddy used to like William.  
  
Harmony: Spike slept with Angel?  
  
Dru: So? It was more the other way around, but Spike slept with you, after all.  
  
Harmony: Meaning?  
  
Anya: Meaning Spike'll sleep with anything that moves.  
  
Dru: Yeah. Spike leaves his flowers on almost everyone.  
  
Harmony: You can tell who he's slept with?  
  
Dru: It's pretty. Flowers on Daddy, flowers on Grandmum, flowers on the Slayer, flowers on you two, flowers on the wrinkly one, even flowers on the gawky boy.  
  
Anya: The gawky boy?  
  
Harmony: Xander. He is it a bit ugly, isn't he?  
  
Anya: He is not ugly! I'll have you know I nearly married him. Anyway- Spike slept with Xander?  
  
Dru: In the dark, underground. Umm, nummy treat!  
  
Cordelia: Can a dumped girl join you?  
  
Anya: Of course. All demons girls, old and new, welcome here. Have you ever slept with Spike?  
  
Cordelia: Spike? No way!  
  
Harmony: Thank goodness somebody hasn't.  
  
Cordelia: What do you maen? Masses of people haven't.  
  
Harmony: Seems that's not so. I have, Dru has, Clem has, Anya has, Giles has, Angel has, Buffy has, Xander has, Darla."  
  
Cordelia: Wait up a moment! Xander slept with Spike?  
  
Harmony: So Dru says. I'd trust her.  
  
Cordelia: Well, I wouldn't! Anyway, Angel and Spike?  
  
Dru: They were nice together, never sure whether to fight or not. Punch! Kiss! Kick! Caress! Made a girl feel all tingly, it did.  
  
Cordelia: That makes sense of the fight, in LA, just before we had to go out and ened that spell casting. I know what you mean about tingly, Dru.  
  
Dru: Clever girl! Tell him what you want.  
  
Cordelia: I'd be taking the first part as a compliment, but- tell who?  
  
Dru: Ssh!  
  
From downstairs come the sounds of an argument. the girls move quietly to the head of the stairs, listening.  
  
Buffy:.so I make the rules, clear?  
  
Clem: I'm clear.  
  
Harmony wisphers "Boy, boy, girl- she's got the right idea," and is quickly hushed by the others.  
  
Buffy: Rule one: A threesome is a threesome, and it stops there. No inviting anyone else to join in. That includes Spike and Cordelia, are we clear?  
  
Cordelia makes a snort of disgust or general annoyance, which nearly covers double 'yes'es from the men (um, demons).  
  
Buffy: Rule two: Don't start without me again. Rule three. umm, can we just skip the rules and have you kissing me again?  
  
Angel: Yes.  
  
From the top of the stairs, the girls find they can see the threesome through the archway if they lean far enough forwards and to the left. Angel is in front of Buffy, his long arms around her and resting on Clem's shoulders. Clem is occupied kissing Buffy's hair, his thumbs pushed into Angel's beltloops.  
  
Buffy just starts kissing Angel in ernest, when Cordelia, who has pushed to the front, goes tumbling down the stairs, skirt flaring up in the process.  
  
Buffy: What on earth?  
  
She pulls away from her new-found lovers and goes to help Cordelia up.  
  
Cordelia: Thanks, Buffy.  
  
Buffy: Are you okay? What happened?  
  
Cordelia: I'm fine.  
  
She looks up the stairs, to find that Harmony has disappered, leaving a grinning heap of Drusilla and Anya, wearing 'oops- face', to deal with the Wrath of Buffy.  
  
Buffy: What happened?  
  
Anya: We were, err.  
  
She looks at Cordelia for help, but Cordy just blushes and looks away.  
  
Anya: We were, just coming, too, err.  
  
Dru: Pretty Daddy. Does he still taste nice, Slayer?  
  
Buffy: You were watching us?  
  
Dru: Yes. Pretty flowers everywhere.  
  
Buffy sighs, and turns to Angel, who is looking from Dru, to Cordy, to Buffy, and round again. Up, left, right. Up, left, right, as if he doesn't know what to think.  
  
Buffy: Angel?  
  
A pause.  
  
Clem: Angel?  
  
Angel: I'm sorry. I can't- oh, no!  
  
He is looking at the back of the sitting room. The other three who are downstairs stare, and Drusilla comes to join them. Anya goes in search of Lorne, unnoticed.  
  
The two who have just entered keep talking.  
  
Darla: Thank you, William. I.. needed that. Are you sure Rupert won't.?  
  
William: He'll quite understand, I'm sure. Oh, hello folks.  
  
Dru: More pretty flowers on William!  
  
Angel: Oh, God, no!  
  
He rolls his eyes upwards, as if imploring help from the heavens.  
  
Angel: Spare me more blonds!  
  
Clem: Hey, not blond here! Bald!  
  
Buffy: I'm not really blond anymore either.  
  
Dru: And I never was.  
  
Angel: What I meant was. oh, hell!  
  
Buffy: You've done that once. What did you mean?  
  
Heinriech: I suspect Angelus may fear he's not up to the task.  
  
Heinreich has followed Spike and Darla in. They all turn to stare at him, except for Cordelia, who slips out into the kitchen.  
  
Heinreich: What say we share the task, boy? I'm sure I could help you staisfy the Slayer, here.  
  
He winks at her.  
  
Buffy: I thought Alice's souling spell was meant to improve you.  
  
Heinreich: No, it differs slightly. It restores one to almost one's human self, only changed by the memories you have aquired over the years.  
  
Buffy: Well, damn Alice and her tasks, I'm going to stake you for that comment.  
  
She takes a stake out of her pocket, and marches over to him. One quick thrust, and poof! No Heinriech.  
  
The collected vampires look shocked for a moment, but then applaud along with the rest. Only Angel stays silent.  
  
William: Hey, Angelus. You're the one who didn't like the guy to begin with. What's up?  
  
Angel: You wouldn't understand.  
  
He walks out, and they hear his footsteps going up the stairs, slow and heavy.  
  
Buffy: Clem, I think maybe we should go after him.  
  
Dru: Yes. Look after Daddy.  
  
Darla: For once, you're right, girl. I think he needs some looking after.  
  
William (calling after the retreating figures): Don't be too nice to him, though!  
  
Darla: That wasn't very kind of you.  
  
William: Just reassuring him that everything's normal, that's all. He'd panic if I started being nice to him.  
  
Darla: I guess I should go and talk to Cordelia nw, while there's a gap. Thanks again.  
  
William: Any time. Accumulating ideas about scrolls and such comes with the terriotory, you know.  
  
Darla: I can guess.  
  
She leaves, heading after Cordelia.  
  
Dru: You talk to Grandmum?  
  
William: Yeah. She was asking about her son and such.  
  
Dru: You got pretty flowers round you? From talking?  
  
William: Pretty flowers?  
  
Dru: Like Buffy and Daddy make with the bald one.  
  
William: Oh! That kind of pretty flower. No, me and Rupert made pretty flowers. Darla came in, but Rupert was asleep, so I answered her questions as best I could. Okay?  
  
Dru: Yeah. I go find Willow now. I want my pleasures.  
  
William: You do that.  
  
She wanders out, stopping to admire the fresh flowers someone has placed on the coffee table. Spike flops into and armchair and watches her go, musing on what the others must think, if they understood Dru's comments about 'pretty flowers' at all.  
  
Behind him, Giles enters.  
  
Rupert: William?  
  
William (turning in his seat): Hello, love.  
  
Rupert: Are you okay?  
  
He perches on the arm of the chair.  
  
William: Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just.Dru still bespells me, sometimes.  
  
Rupert: I know what you mean. Ethan does it to me.  
  
William: Hang overs from our glory days, huh?  
  
Rupert: In a very literal sense, yes.  
  
William smiles, and the glassly look fades from his eyes.  
  
Rupert: What did Darla want?  
  
William: Oh, some stuff about what the Nyazinan scrolls say, what they might mean. Follow ups from what Alice said, really.  
  
Rupert: Right. I was half afraid she might want something you couldn't give her.  
  
William: Like what?  
  
There is a sharp tone in his voice that makes Rupert frown.  
  
Rupert: Something you didn't know, that's all. What's the matter?  
  
William (smiling again): Oh, just that I thinks ome of the others might have got the wrong idea. When Darla and I came in, Dru was here, and she said something about seeing 'pretty flowers' on me. Given the looks I got, I think they might not have realised the flowers were yours.  
  
Rupert: What do you mean? Flowers? Mine?  
  
William: Um, well, when someone's had sex, Dru sees what she calls 'pretty flowers' on them. She sees all sorts of things- fish, flowers, the occassional dog- and if you know what they mean you can tell stuff about the person she sees them on.  
  
Rupert: Ah, I see. So the others may well be under the impression that you had sex with Darla?  
  
William: Um, yes. In short.  
  
Rupert grins a little more wickedly than is normal on a Watcher (with the possible exepction of Quetin Travers in a silly mood).  
  
Rupert: Something in me wants to exploit that.  
  
William: You're not suggesting.  
  
Rupert: I am. 


	37. Networking 6: Pizza meeting

Title: Networking, part 6: Pizza Meeting  
  
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona  
  
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk  
  
Summary: The family are together again. All hell breaks loose, as normal.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Angel/Clem, Spike/Giles, Cordelia/Darla, Willow/Drusilla, Xander/Harmony, Lorne/Anya, Fred/Gunn.  
  
Spoilers: For most of seasons 3 and 6.  
  
Warnings: Pizza eating, garlic bread.  
  
Author Notes:  
  
Story Notes:  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss' sandpit. With Buffy. And Spike and Giles on the swings. Get it? I'm dreaming!  
  
Giles: I think we have to reformulate our plans. Without Heinriech.  
  
Buffy: Not a lot changes.  
  
Giles: True.  
  
Buffy: Some changes are needed, though.  
  
They are sitting around in the living room, eating an evening meal of pizza. The non-vampire members had the option of garlic bread, too, but so many were planning to kiss vampires later that it wasn't disapperaing very fast.  
  
Giles: So what's your new plan?  
  
Buffy: We're going to try and carry on much as we always have done. Me and the Scooby Gang here, with Dawn, Angel and co. in LA.  
  
Angel: No.  
  
Buffy: What!  
  
Angel: No. I don't want to go back to LA. I want to be here with you, and wild Powers with branding irons won't tear me away.  
  
Buffy: But we need a vampire in LA, to look after things there.  
  
Darla: I'll go. if you'll come with me?  
  
She turns to the demon woman sitting next to her.  
  
Cordelia: of course. Angel gets to be with his lover, I get to be with mine.  
  
They share a sappy little grin that leaves most of the people wanting to heave, and Angel more confused than ever- a feeling that only increases when Buffy responds by giving him a sappy smile, too.  
  
Buffy: Good. Me, Angel, Clem, Dawn, Willow, Dru, Xander and Harmony, all here; Darla, Cordy, Lorne and Anya in LA; Gunn, Fred, Wesley and Steven to England, with Spike and Giles. Clear?  
  
She gets nods all round, and contiunes.  
  
Buffy: We all need to be looking out for any clues that might lead us to what's going to happen, and when. If we can slow down any of the people on the other side, that would help, too.  
  
Lorne: If we find something out, what's the procedure for letting people know?  
  
Buffy: A telephone call or an e-mail to me. I'll pass it on.  
  
Fred: What if we can't get to a phone?  
  
Buffy: You will be able to. Cordy?  
  
Cordelia: I've bought twelve mobile phones. They should be able to get a signal anywhere it the world- I'm told they're the ones that the US miltitry use, so if you can't get through, neither can they.  
  
William: For some reason, that doesn't inspire confidence in me.  
  
Cordielia: What do you mean?  
  
William: I've met soliders.  
  
Cordelia ignores him, and hands out phones, first to Darla, seated at her side; then to Clem, sitting at the other end of the sofa; then to Buffy, standing by his side, and Angel, sitting at her feet. To Spike, on Rupert's lap in the big armchair, and the Rupert, who can hardly be seen around William's muscluar form.  
  
She gives them to Willow and Drusilla, curled up on the floor, and to Xander and Harmony, sharing the other armcahir. To Dawn, a bit uncomfortable on a hard chair brought from the kitchen, and to Steven by her side; then to Fred and Gunn who sre leaning aginst the wall, viewing the meal and meeting as an intrruption of their kissing time.  
  
She hands two to Lorne and Anya, seated on the floor; and finally gives on to Wesley, who has huddled himself onto the floor and almost into the sofa arm, as if he deosn't want to be seen.  
  
Cordelia: Everybody got a phone?  
  
They nod.  
  
Cordelia: Please, learn how to use them and keep them with you at all times.  
  
She sits down, and Buffy smiles.  
  
Buffy: Thanks, Cordy. I think that's the meeting over with- you can get on with eating now.  
  
One or two people, like Xander, who hadn't stopped eating for the meeting, look slightly shamefaced, and the rest dig back into their pizzas. 


	38. More Cuddles: Giles and Spike, Fit the N...

Title: Giles and Spike: Another English Cuddle   
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona   
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk   
Summary: William has a headache. Rupert takes care of it.   
Rating: PG-13   
Pairing: Giles/Spike (Rupert/William)   
Spoilers: Season 3 Angel, 6 Buffy   
Warnings: Cuddling   
Author Notes: None   
Story Notes: None   
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss's sand pit. With Spike and Giles on the swings, wearing all that hot tweed and wanting to strip… excuse me. No S/G in the show, so it can't be mine. 

Rupert POV

We're back in England, bent over books and laptop, trying to find anything that will lead us to the next event in the chain that should lead us to an apocalypse, one of those familiar things you have to avert or die in the process. Predictably, we aren't getting anywhere, because we don't know what to look for.

I glance up from my weighty tome and watch William for a while, as he lies on the sofa, working. In the blue glow of the laptop's screen he looks paler than ever, if possible. The thing beeps at him, and he sighs, closing his eyes.

His floppy honey-blond hair drags down over his forehead, and he reaches up to push it back. When he's done so, he doesn't lower his hand back to the keyboard but rests his head on his palm, eyes still closed and mouth twisted sourly. To say he didn't look happy would be an understatement of the most severe kind.

When I shut my book, he doesn't look up and smile, as he normally would at the end of a long working session. He just stays where he is, head in his hands and eyes shut. I notice that his shoulders are tense, that even the heavy sigh hasn't relaxed him.

Taking my glasses of and crossing the room, I go to stand behind him. "William? I think it's time for bed."

No reply. "William? Are you alright?" I put my hand down to him, rubbing his shoulder lightly through the cotton of his T-shirt.

"No," he says, and filches away from the touch. "Go to bed. I'll be along soon." Go to bed without him? This doesn't sound like the William I know.

"What's the matter, love?"

"Nothing. Go to bed." His voice is thicker than usual, and not with emotion. It takes me a moment to identify what I'm hearing- pain.

"Something is the matter," I tell him. "You're in pain."

"Am not." That bare denial says I'm getting closer.

"William, I'm not leaving until I know. Come here." I kneel by the sofa and take him firmly by the shoulders, putting all my strength into pulling him away from the laptop and towards me. He's heavy, but years of training with Buffy have made me strong.

He doesn't make it easy for me, and I'm panting by the time he's lying on his side, facing me, with his arm over my shoulder. On the other hand, he doesn't resist either, so I take it he can't be disliking it that much.

"William, tell me. Talk to me, love."

Silence. What can it be? Not talking isn't normal William behavior- it's usually more of a problem to get him to shut up. Oh! I know what it could be. I'd nearly forgotten, which is surprising, given the other day…

"William, have you got another headache?"

Another pause, then he nods into my chest.

"That's the fourth time this week, isn't it?"

Again the reluctant nod. Four he's admitted to now, and I'm sure there were others.

"You told me once that bedrooms cured headaches well. Care to test that hypothesis?"

Still no verbal answer, but he moves, and it comes to me with a shock that if he decided to use his strength against me I could be really hurt before the chip stopped him. It isn't a new thought, but the possibility is reinforced when he does things like this… like lifting me up and carrying me, so that before I know it we're in the bedroom.

Conditioning leads me to expect a kiss, leading to another kiss, leading to other things. That isn't what happens, though. He lays me gently down, on the bed, next to him, switches off the nightlight before rolling over and lying absolutely still. He isn't asleep because I can feel his body against mine and every muscle is tense.

Like rigor mortis, says a little voice in the back of my brain, but I ignore it.

"William," I begin. He cuts me off.

"No. Go to sleep."

"No," I say, surprising us both. "You've got a headache, and that's all. Why are you so upset about it?"

"I'm not upset, just tired. Let's sleep."

"William, I know you. I love you, and I care about you, and I know you- and you're upset. tell me why."

I hear him- feel him- take a breath.

"Unpleasent associations," he says. "Now can I get some sleep?"

I notice that, typically, he has turned the subject round from me, to him.

"You aren't going to sleep. I know what happened the other night- you lay there until you thought I was asleep, then you went back to the research. You're not doing that again."

"I'm not?" No 'I didn't do that' so I must have guessed right. The voice, though, is Spike, slightly amused by my attempt to lay down the law.

"No, and you are going to tell me about these unpleasant associations. I want to know why they've upset you so."

"I am?" My best you-will-obey-me voice, carefully developed for use on Slayers, never worked with Buffy but William sometimes plays along, especially if I tap Ripper for added influence. Perhaps I should have done that today, because he displays no inclination to tell me.

"I'm not," he says, nearly laughing now- a grim, determined laughter, but better than the tears he sounded close to earlier.

"Then I'll tell you something about it, and you can fill in the gaps." I only hope my detective work is good enough. I wasn't planning to give it this hard a test.

"Oh? Go ahead, then." he's mocking now, hiding, Xander-like, behind his jovial mask. Xander and William in the same thought- bad Rupert! You're not a teenager, unlike the two of them…ahem, and I didn't know one could cough mentally before.

"I will." That's right, get on with what you're going to say. Forget your naughty picture of Xander. "Your headache's basically eyestrain, isn't it? My guess is that, as a human, you were quite short-sighted…"

"Long, actually, but still." Yes! I exalt in the privacy of my mind. William is back, open, more honest than Spike, and a little hesitant.

"You were long-sighted as a human, and while when you were turned your eyesight improved, it still isn't great."

"How do you figure all that, Sherlock?"

"When you read, you always pick the large print books, and you set the font size on your computer to maximum."

"And how do you know that, oh chap who doesn't touch machines with a barge pole?"

"Willow commented on the font size," I confess. "And Darla told me about your wearing glasses. She said something about reading to Dru sometimes gave you headaches, too."

"The bitch," he mutters, and I couldn't say whether he meant Willow, Darla, or Dru.

"Why don't you simple still wear glasses?"

"It's embarrassing. What would it do to my image?."

"Put it in focus?"

A soft chuckle. "That's not the only reason, though. Dru smashed my first pair, and- well, when I was human I hated the option, you know that?"

I didn't, but have the sense not to say so. "Um."

"Well, I never got up the nerve to go again. And stealing from someone you've killed isn't very efficient." The self-mocking tone in his voice makes me want to cry, 'Oh! My poor William!' and hug him tight. I refrain, however, sticking to, "It wouldn't be."

"Beside the fact that Dru would have had hysterics and smashed them as soon as she saw them. And later one, we had Dalton to do the research for us. He would have laughed right along with her. I tried contact lens once, in the nineteen eighties, but they just made my eyes sore."

I can no longer resist, and tighten my arms around him into a firm hug. he tries to keep his distance of a moment, but then surrenders and molds his body to mine.

"I think one of Charlene's coven is an option," I mummer into his flaxen hair. "Should we ask her to give you an appointment, after dark? It's dark early these days."

He rubs his head against my chest in what I can only interpret as a nod. Before he fully completes the slow gesture, he relaxes further and is sound asleep within one of my breaths.

I reach over and switch the nightlight on, against either of us dreaming, and then give myself over to Morpheus.


	39. More Cuddles: The Threesome

Title: Buffy, Clem and Angel: Three-way Cuddle   
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona   
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk   
Summary: Angel broods. Buffy breakfasts. Clem remains cheerful.   
Rating: PG   
Pairing: Buffy/Angel/Clem   
Spoilers: Buffy 6, Angel 3   
Warnings: Angst   
Author Notes: Yes, it's a threesome. So?  
Story Notes:   
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss etc. God. Worship due. Amen. 

Buffy:

After patrol last night, we came straight back to the house. Now Dawn's staying with friends again, we get the occasional night when we can do just what we like- and I liked what we did. I knew Angel was good in bed, based on one night, but I didn't realize he had that much experience with threes. He knows just how to make it good for all of us, even if I get the impression he doesn't enjoy it as much as I and Clem do.

I'm going to have to work on that, maybe get Clem to help me do something special for him. I tend to forget that Angel can feel quite as insecure as any teenager.

I sleep a bit later than usual, and when I wake up, the first thing I see is Clem, cuddled next to me. Funny- no one's behind me. When I roll over, mystery solved. Angel is sitting in the corner, watching and brooding.

Oh no, here we go again. I'm hungry, but I have to cheer him up first. I slide out of bed, noting that while he must have seen the move, he doesn't react at all.

I step up to him, putting my hand out to touch his shoulder. Reminding myself to keep it quiet- no sense in waking Clem- I ask, "Angel? Are you alright?" I guess it's not the greatest question ever, but it's the best I can do at short notice.

"I'm fine," he says, not moving. "You should go find something to eat."

"Find it for me," I say, hoping to stir him into some sort of action. It works, kind of.

"Okay," he sighs. "Come on."

We head down to the kitchen, and he starts to make coffee and such. I think Cordy must have been giving him lessons in how to do human things, because he sure couldn't make coffee when he met me.

When I'm seated at the counter with a plate of omelet in front of me, I try again. "Angel, tell me what's the matter."

He shakes his head. "Nothing's the matter. Those okay?"

"They're fine, but you're not. I wake up to find you brooding, and you won't tell me why. Not helping with openness and honest score here."

No smile. He doesn't even look at me, just stares off into the middle distance, looking at some invisible thing or other.

"Angel, talk to me. Is it about me? Clem? Dawn? Alice? Darla? What? Angel, tell me."

Angel:

Why does she have to be so persistent? I can't tell her. I can't say that I'm not sure if this works, that I don't feel comfortable with this, that I'm all screwed up inside and I'm not over Connor and I dreamt about Wesley and something's wrong here. I can't.

I shake my head, again, and sigh.

"I…I can't. I'm just- it takes time to adjust."

"Angel, it's been a week. What is there for you to adjust to? I love you, I love Clem. Clem loves me, Clem loves you. You love me, you love Clem. We're together. We're happy. Simple."

But it's not. I love her, I always will, and Clem is powerfully attractive, I'll admit that. the thing is, Spike's attractive too. So's Wesley, and did I really just think that? "I..I'm not sure I can deal with this right now," I tell her, and walk out. Unfortunately, the sun's up and I can't go far, so I stride into the living room, flopping down where she can't see me. I need to work out why I feel this way.

Buffy:

When he's in brood-mode, there's not much anyone can say that will reach through the black cloud he wraps around himself. I finish my breakfast, and then go back upstairs to get dressed. My slayer senses tell me Angel's in the living room, so I steer clear of there. When I'm not so annoyed with him for shutting himself off, I'll go and talk to him.

Getting dressed takes a little longer than I intend, because Clem wanted to, well, you can guess what. We had a long talk, mostly about Angel. If we're to include him in our relationship, both Clem and I have to work together on sorting out the problems. We'll work with Angel, when we've solved his problems.

Clem:

Buffy is such a wonderful person: she is always giving, both to me and, now, to Angel. We head downstairs when we're both dressed.

"You go first," she says. "I'll be in the kitchen, just call me if I don't come."

I look round the arch into the room. There's Angel, sitting in one of the armchairs where he can't be seen from outside the room, eyes fixed on some faraway point and face drooping sadly.

"Angel?" I call, walking up to him slowing. No sense in surprising him.

There's no reaction. I've never seen the guy in full-on brood mode before, but from what Buffy's said, this is it. He's practically catatonic.

"Angel? Talk to me, Angel."

His eyes refocus themselves, but he doesn't make any other response. I sit on the floor in front of him, and keep talking.

"What is it, Angel? Just let me know you're really in there. I'm falling in love with you, Angel. I love Buffy, and so do you, I see that, and I love you for it. Can you tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

He looks at me now, not moving his head, just those handsome brown eyes. "I can't," he says, his voice flat.

"What can't you do, Angel?" Keep it gentle, try to keep the hope, the forced cheerfulness, out of my voice. False optimism is not the way to go with Angel.

"This," he tells me, gesturing round the room at nothing in particular. "With you, with her. I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"The dreams," he replies, then stops as if he has said more than he meant to.

"What dreams? Angel, it's okay, you can tell me." He doesn't hear or doesn't believe me, though, because he is standing up, walking out.

Ah, well. He'll probably come round soon.

Angel:

I won't tell him. I can't. How can one tell an obnoxiously cheerful demon, with whom one had sex last night, that you don't love him or his girlfriend (who happens to be your former and apparently current girlfriend) because you have fallen for your British- technically boss- who kidnapped your child and, as far as you can figure, killed him? I know Connor isn't really dead, he's just changed his name to Steven, but to me he's gone. He'll never be my son now, he doesn't love me, I hardly know him.

I've worked some of this out. I'm in love with Wesley. I have all this anger, this almost hate for him, but I love him. He tried to protect me from myself, he isn't brave enough to trust me, but he is a true friend, and I love him. I doubt he feels the same way about me, so I guess I'm doomed to remain alone forever, curse or no.

Buffy:

Angel's an adult. If he wants to mope around and be all sad and stuff, that's his call. I want to sleep with Clem, and he can join us or not as he chooses. I'd sort of hoped that I could bring the two of them together- then, when I'm gone, as I surely will be one day, they will both have someone, a fellow demon, to help and support them. They both need that.

I'll keep trying, but there can be no guarantees- of course. There never are.


	40. More Cuddles: Witchy Ways

Title: Willow and Drusilla: A Magical Cuddle   
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona   
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk   
Summary: Willow and Dru talk, post-patrol. It's naughty talk, in the very mildest way.   
Rating: PG-13   
Pairing: Willow/Drusilla   
Spoilers: Season 3 Angel, 6 Buffy   
Warnings: Mild bondage (implied)   
Author Notes: None   
Story Notes: None   
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing in Joss's sand pit. With Spike and Giles on the swings, wearing all that hot tweed and wanting to strip… excuse me. No S/G in the show, so it can't be mine. No profit made from this waste of my time. 

Drusilla:

"You enjoy the violence nearly as much as Buffy does, don't you, Dru?" she asks me. Her red hair is all crumpled, and the fighting has excited me. I want to see my pretty flowers on her.

"Bang! Thud!" She'll never understand, but I try to explain anyway. "The moon all smiley and the road all slimy."

"Yes, Dru. Are you hungry?" She's cold like Grandmummy, practical.

"Um- tummy growly. I'm all growly too." To maximize the impact of that, I growl, long and low.

"So you are. Here, glass of blood for Dru and glass of juice for Willow."

"Make me happy, pretty one?"

"After pleasures again so soon, Dru? You are a naughty madam." Her smile says she likes it, even if she doesn't understand.

How can she not see that? "Vampire, my Willow. Will you dance with me?"

"Alright. But not for long, my leg's still hurting from where that vampire kicked me."

"Ah, poor Willow. I kiss it better?"

She nods, so I kneel at her feet. This is something I would never have done for my boy- I wanted to hurt him, not comfort him, though at times I would do both- but Willow is my human consort and she deserves all the respect I give to Daddy. Kissing her leg, I smell blood under her skirt. The wound is still bleeding, and it smells like honey.

I pull the hem up, and she sits down on the bed, making my job easier.

"Were you injured in the fight?" she asks. Funny girl- always more worried about me than her.

"They hurt me. It's good," I tell her. I move up to sit beside her on the bed, letting her hold me, running my hand through her hair to see all the poppies. The voices from the wall sing with the silken touch.

"You're a dark girl, you know that?"

I know. "Daddy told me."

She pulls my face close to hers, and kisses me, then leans back to say, "I love you."

"Will you hurt me, like Daddy did? Like my Spike did?"

"Umm…" She likes to hurt- I like it. The moon says she used to hurt bad people. I'm bad.

"Tie me up. Hit me. Hurt me." I'm nearly begging. Her hand on my neck is firm- and suddenly has nails. The pain shocks me. I gasp in pleasure, hoping she can tell.

A apparently she can, and it goes on. My knees bend as they used to do, in church, for Daddy, my hips thrust against this red goddess. "Bite! Hurt!" I whisper.

She's blood, beautiful poetry, hurting and sweet and strong. It's not wise, but I love her. Oh, I do.

My hands seek to give her pleasure like Grandmum taught me- good manners. Flowers explode behind my eyes, and I know they are on her as well.

"Drusilla?" she asks, later, when she's recovered a little. "Did you mean what you said about me hurting you?"

I nod eagerly. Oh, yes. Daddy's girl likes to be hurt.

"Well, I'll think about it, if you'll do something for me. How about it?"

Again, I nod. I don't know how she sees me in the dark, but maybe it's magic.

Willow:

I feel her head nod against my leg, so I go on. "I want you to help me find out just what you can see with those visions of yours, and what the chip does. We do some experiments, yes?"

"Yes," she hisses. "And you hurt me?"

I nod. I don't know how she sees me in the dark, but she must do.

"Good. More flowers now?"

Oh, yes. More flowers, Dru. Always with you.

Drusilla:

While she sleeps, Miss Edith shows me things again. I see the ring of three, hear her singing, "A ring, a ring around the Hellmouth,/ Fight the bad man from the south/ The master, the master,/ We all fall down."

I see them, their faces, and I know their names, but hush, mustn't tell. Be quiet- one of them is all speckled with the dark, he's a naughty boy and he likes the solider man; one is the sparkly girl, who's all green swirls, and the other is hidden, her back to me, but the moon says she's a he, a witch-child.

Shhh! No more moon talk! Let me be sleepy now.


	41. More Cuddles Interlude: Talking Time

Title: More Cuddles Interlude: Willow and Angel   
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona   
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk   
Summary: Willow talks to Angel, about their loves and lovers.   
Rating: PG-15 (naughty talk)   
Pairing: Willow/Drusilla, Angel/Wesley, Angel/Buffy/Clem, others mentioned..   
Spoilers: Not really an issue any more.   
Warnings: Talk about possible bondage. I'm trying to leave it to your minds to provide the pictures.   
Author Notes: None.   
Story Notes: None.   
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nice Joss. Look! Over there, someone you want to sue more than me, your truly splendiferous artisticness. 

Willow: 

It's quite late. Buffy said she and Clem were patrolling, and leaving Angel with Dawn. I'm hoping I can slip in and talk to him. The door isn't locked, which is a bit concerning, so I go in. 

"Angel?" I call, softly. I don't want to wake Dawn. 

He's in the living room, sitting in darkness on the sofa. "Angel? Can I talk to you?" 

"Oh, hi Willow." He seems uncomfortable. "Yeah, I suppose so. Come in." 

I sit beside him on the sofa, reaching over to turn on the light. It throws his shadow on the opposite wall, and not for the first time I wonder why vampires have shadows but not reflections. Then, you can take photographs of them, so… and I'm babbling. hope that wasn't out loud. 

It seems not, because he takes the initiative. "So, how's life treating you? You're, um, with Drusilla now, aren't you?" 

"Yes," I say. "Actually, it was that I wanted to, err, talk to you about." 

"Right. I doubt there's much I can say you haven't heard before. She's an evil vampire, you shouldn't be sleeping with her, she's not good enough for you." He pauses, then adds, "I wish you luck." 

"Thank you." 

He seems glad to have a topic to talk about, and it crosses my mind to wonder what subject he's avoiding. I guess I'll have to try and find out, but not before I get what I came for. 

"She's a difficult one to get to know, Drusilla. She's mad, but very clever, and she knows a lot." 

"I got that. tell me, Angel, what does she like? You turned her, Sired her, what does she like? She's always talking about daddy did this, daddy did that. Tell me what you did." 

"I killed her family, and turned her the night she was made a nun." The plain, blank expression on his face could be anything- I can never tell if he's fighting tears or laughter. 

"More specific. She says you hurt her. Tell me how." 

Angel: 

Powers! She always did have a determined streak in her, but this, this is something new, and I'm not sure I like it. 

"What do you mean?" I ask, playing for time. I could tell her, oh, I could tell her, but I'm not sure she wants to know. 

"Tell me how you hurt her. Tell me what you did. Tell me what she likes, what she's begging for when she calls out, "Yes, daddy, hurt me," in her dreams. Tell me how." 

"She still dreams?" I knew she used to, but somehow I'd have thought that she would have stopped, after all these years. She's changed so many other ways, and I'm amazed Spike didn't stake her for calling out my name in her sleep. 

"I think she stopped for a while- Spike's fault- but she dreams now. Tell me what she dreams." 

"Are you really sure you want to know?" 

"Angel, have you heard? I killed Warren. I killed Rack, and while neither of them were innocent, I shouldn't have killed them. I'm a murderer too, and I enjoyed it. I think it's better that I torture my girlfriend, who's begging for it, than that I go out and murder someone else." 

The cold in her voice surprises me. I'd heard the story, but I hadn't known she enjoyed it. She's atoning, just like me. I can turn my tortures inwards, but her- she clearly can't, not yet. Something in me still responses to the call to be Dru's Sire, to help my Childe, too. "Alright. She likes to have her hands chained up and…" 

Willow: 

I'm starting to wish I'd brought a pen and paper. Then I could takes notes, because we've been here half an hour already, and he seems set to go on talking all night. Not all of it is about Dru, either. Those parts stick in my memory, but he's rambling some. I think he hasn't spoken openly like this to anyone for years, if ever, and there's a lot to say. 

"That was what happened to Spike's first motorcycle, the one he stole to run away from the Slayer on. Nothing like the one Wesley has now, but just as sexy. Oh, dear God, did I just think that? Say that?" 

He looks across at me, and my face must tell him that he did. "I'm sorry, Willow. I didn't mean to ramble." 

"It's okay, Angel. Babbling is good. We all do it, well, most of us do, it's a fine art, and see? Me, too." 

"I see." He doesn't smile, but his voice says he wants to. "Willow, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell Buffy? Not until I have a chance to tell her." 

"Um, okay, I guess. Is it about Wesley?" 

"It is. I think I'm in love with him." 

"Oh. That's, um, good. Is it, you know, mutual?" 

"It can't be. He's not gay, he's just- English." 

"Err, English and gay aren't opposites. Look at Giles. Angel, are all vampires gay?" 

"I don't know. Are all humans gay?" 

"Good question. I thought not, but now, I think, maybe yes. Not Xander, or Buffy, but most of my other friends- Giles, and Cordy. That's like, half and half." 

"You're babbling again." 

"One of my many skills. All your family are, though. Darla with Cordy, and Dru with me, and Spike with Giles. You in love with Wesley. That's a lot of gay." 

"It is, isn't it?" 

"Yes." 

There's a pause, then he says, "Not Harmony." 

"No. Like Xander." 

"Do you approve of that match?" 

"What match?" 

"Xander and Harmony." 

"Oh, um, I wouldn't have, but when I'm with Dru, it seems churlish to object." 

"It would." 

"What will you do? About Wesley?" 

"I don't know. If I could, I'd tell him, but A, he's in England now, and B, I think he'd stake me. And C, I'm not sure I've forgiven him completely for what he did to Connor, anyway." 

"Oh. Difficult." 

The door opens, and Buffy walks in, Clem close behind her. 

"Hi Angel- and Willow! Good to see you." 

"Hi, Buffy, Clem. I was just going," I say. 

"You sure you'll be okay, walking home alone?" Buffy asks, not bothering to wonder what I was doing here. That's a blessing. 

"I'll be fine. Got the car now, you know." 

"Oh, I'd forgotten. Goodnight, Willow." 

"Night, Buffy, and you, Clem. Goodnight, Angel." I give him a quick smile, and leave, heading back home in the new car. It's actually quite an old car, but it's what we could afford when we had to buy several. 

Buffy decided we should all have cars, to aid the getting round and patrolling and such. With no Giles to ferry us, I and Xander- the only two in the group who can drive, except for Angel (and he's night missions only)- have to do fetch and carry duty. 

Back home, I sneak into bed next to a sleeping Dru, and begin to work on how to get hold of some really good handcuffs.


End file.
